“When the cowboys on the 06 ranch talked about losing a way of life, they often pointed to their neighbor, Clayton Williams, as an example of what they meant. He was a millionaire and an oilman, and he represented everything they hated.”
A year of arousing art, bumbling bush, coerced canines, deranged Dallas, eureka! Eureste, freeway fantasy, groping Germans, hurtling helicopters, idiotic Irving, and jocose jelly beans.
If marriage means commitment and trust, that’s fine. If it means never dancing in front of a Billy Idol video again, that’s no so fine.
These fourteen Texas sheriffs are everything you thought a sheriff ought to be. But look quick; the old-time county lawman is riding off into the sunset.
So you think that OPEC controls the price of oil and that the glut is hurting everybody in the oil business? Wrong. Traders on the international spot market are pulling the strings and getting rich in the process.
Bobby Morrow was America’s most celebrated Olympic athlete in 1956. Today he wishes he’d never left the starting blocks.
Clinton Manges built his empire on brushland and oil wells, political contributions and lawsuits. His influence extends to the state capitol and oil company boardrooms. To get where he is, he studied under three masters of South Texas.
Texas’ morning glory by thirteen photographers.
Texas’ glory, till now based on oil, may be based on silicon in years to come.
There’s no point in grousing about Texas’ minor shortcomings. Why not just roll up our sleeves and make it perfect once and for all?
Presenting Carolyn Farb, worthy to Dolph Briscoe, Farrah Fawcett, J. R. Ewing, Mike Martin, and Jackie Sherrill as Bum Steer of the Year—and 107 other fascinating foibles.
Fie on the cilantro fad, greaseless barbecue, and indiscriminate mesquite-grilling. Let’s hear it for Frito pie, catfish plates, and other gems of Texas’ true cuisine
It’s a bank-eat-bank world out there.
From his early days in Big Spring, Eugene Anderson wasn’t what he seemed; neither was the mysterious element he later claimed turned water into fuel.
Discover another side of the Texas coast—its peerless beachcombing, legendary beer joints, odd birds (feathered and otherwise), and lovable year-round scruffiness.
No Matter where you are, there’s someplace to be nowhere.
Today’s desperadoes are in the bays of the Texas coast, roping redfish and cursing the Parks and Wildlife Department.
The long afternoons of the best friend the rich women of Houston have ever had.
Charlie Brooks was the first man to die by lethal injection, but everyone wondered whether he or his partner was the real murderer. In his last days, Brooks answered that, and other questions.
Presenting blazing barbecue, bumbling Bush, blaspheming Baptists, and 118 more of the best of the worst of Texas.
Soon there won’t be anyone left who wants to be a cop.
The bright-eyed, pink-cheeked cream of Texas youth aren’t scrambling on the football field. They’re playing in the high school band.
The inside story of Boone Pickens’ adventures in the Wall Street merger game, featuring action, suspense, drama, a few laughs, and a special guest appearance by President Ronald Reagan.
He’s Arthur Temple, Jr., ruler of a million acres of East Texas and the last of the timber barons.
Harding Lawrence was obsessed with making Braniff great. Maybe too obsessed.
A photographic tour of the timeless Rio Grande, from its origins in the mountains of Colorado to the Padre Island dunes at the tip of Texas.
Anybody can get a job as a security guard. Anybody.
It was simple, really. With Charlie’s Angels, television discovered sex.
Hugh Roy Cullen found the oil and made one of Houston’s great fortunes; now his grandson is spending his inheritance like there is no tomorrow, and suing for more.
In which we salute the folks who made Texas the bizarre, flagrant, preposterous, funny, and endearing place it was last year.
To a plastic surgeon, your face is just the beginning.
Thousands of people from the North, broke and out of work, are streaming into the state. This is the true story of two of them who abandoned Detroit for Houston, learned about cockroaches, tacos, and freeways, and finally discovered happiness in broken air conditioners.
Texas cities are full of people who grew up in the country—and want everybody they meet to know it.
What’s behind this year’s rampant display of wild flowers? The birds and the bees, of course.
Bill Clements, unmasked at last.
Evangelist James Robison is using the pulpit, prime time television, and Cullen Davis to try to save the world.
And hello to high prices, high interest rates, high rents, and a new low for the American dream.
Honest.
Welcome to Highland Park, a small town right in the middle of Dallas where the living is easy and time stands still.
Perhaps. At least they’re on the right track and trying hard.
Along the silent, lovely beach, tiny armies fight in the tide, fierce battles rage in the sky, and nocturnal marauders slither across the sand.
Four years ago we brought you the Best of Texas. Now we do it again— only better.
You can still find it in these great small towns.
For hundreds of years man—from the Comanche to the backpacker—has tried to conquer Big Bend. Still, it remains wild, stark, and pristine.
Pedro Martínez, with only his Mexican heritage, a determination to work hard, and a desire for a better life, brought his family across the Rio Grande to find a home in a new land.
The art of romantic osculation barely survived the jaded seventies. Now it’s time to rediscover the private delights and civic benefits of real kissing.
There are two questions about John Connally: Is he good enough to be president? Is he too bad to be president?
He believed in the American dream and it paid off.
Grab your beach towel and bathing suit, but leave your car in the garage.
Although Texans make good friends, they make even better enemies.
