What Texas Means to Me
God created Texas, and then He created people who would love it.
God created Texas, and then He created people who would love it.
And other great country stores of Texas.
A Dallas engineer you’ve probably never heard of has done more to change our daily lives than almost anyone else alive. How? He invented the silicon chip.
From all over the world, people are coming to Houston to find a better life. For a few of them—immigrants from Poland, Nigeria, and El Salvador—this is what it’s like.
The lost hopes of places like Belle Plain haunt Texas’ prairies.
George Jones really lives the way he says he lives in the songs he sings.
He was wildly eccentric, he lived in a shanty on the Gulf, he subsisted as a bait fisherman, he had bizarre notions of eternal life. He may have been the best artist Texas has ever produced.
It’s everybody’s favorite reptile, and it’s disappearing from Texas.
Every parent with a teenage kid knows the fears: drinking, drugs, and rebellion. For the Cartwrights, those fears all came true.
Multiple-choice question: UT’s Tom Philpott is (a) the best professor on campus, a selfless reformer, and the victim of an assassination attempt; (b) the worst professor on campus, a publicity hound, and a nut who staged his own shooting.
Sounds like a joke, right? Cowboy chic was funny too, until it caught on.
How a Houston boy forgot his family’s advice about staying out of politics and became the White House chief of staff.
Welcome—well, sort of—to San Antonio’s dowager bastion.
Welcome to Houston, the cutting edge of architecture. The local boys are turning a gentlemen’s profession into a business, the stylish out-of-towners are creating a new aesthetic, and neither group is filled with admiration for the other.
The Texas Court of Criminal Appeals confirms your worst fears about lawyers and judges and the impotence of the criminal justice system.
The air is muggy, the sky turns an eerie green, then you hear a sound like a fleet of freight trains. Beware, Texas, it’s that time of year again.
On the surface, Mexico’s presidential election looks a lot like ours—rallies, placards, speeches—but the outcome there is never in doubt.
It’s only a humble weed, but just try to imagine West Texas without it.
When liquor by the drink went into effect in 1971, Texas changed forever.
Saint Paul said that a little wine is a fine thing. He must have known something.
If you leave your child at a day care center, you are hardly unique. If you know what your child does there all day, you are indeed unique.
For years no one would drink Lone Star beer because rednecks did; then one enterprising man figured out that if it was marketed right, everyone would want to drink Lone Star precisely because rednecks did.
People still think of cotton as a Dixieland crop, but the heart of the nation’s production is on the dry, flat, and windswept High Plains of Texas.
This clunky piece of machinery made Howard Hughes very rich. It is the first in our series of things that every Texan should know.
Governor Bill Clements lassoed James Michener to write a tome about Texas. It’s due out in a couple of years. But that’s too long to wait, so we decided to write a version of our own.
Whenever you buy or sell a house, hundreds of dollars of your money goes for something called title insurance. Title insurance is a great deal—for the title company.
Supplicants in the Valley worship at the shrine of faith healer Don Pedrito Jaramillo, more powerful in death than he was in life.
Rusty Hardin is a prosecutor. Most of the time, his job is to put people in jail. This time, he wants a man dead.
They used to be virtuous and wooden and they were good. Now they’re commercial and plastic and they’re great.
The life—promising beginning, overripe middle, bloody end—of Lee Chagra, the biggest drug lawyer in El Paso.
Wait! Don’t buy that gas-slurping motorboat and energy-squandering food processor for Christmas. We modestly propose some thrifty alternatives.
The city boy moved to the country and life was good. And then he bought four pigs.
He’s the man with the Word, and the Word is for you.
Four performers in Dallas are making a new kind of music that combines precision, grace, and crazy humor.
Houston’s air may be a slow killer, but the state and the feds spend more time battling each other than fighting pollution.
A carny’s life is an endless ramble from one small town to the next—and that’s why he likes it.
They’re ugly little things, but you’ve got to respect them.
When it comes to flops and fiascos, Texans can outdo anyone.
Everybody knows the story about the young Texan who goes into business, works hard, and makes millions. But what happens when his luck runs out?
Vesta Cawley turned to the city bureaucracy for help with a problem that didn’t matter to any of the other 900,000 residents of Dallas. But it should have mattered more to city hall.
All this twenty-year-old University of Houston student wants to do is jump farther and run faster than anyone else ever has.
Parceling out three new seats in Congress sounds like an easy job, but the Texas Legislature tried for two months and couldn’t do it.
Why knock yourself out for two grueling weeks at a piano competition in Fort Worth? For $12,000—and a string of concert bookings money can’t buy.
Before Six Flags, before Astroworld, there was Playland.
From giant freshwater prawns to bikini-clad coeds, from ancient Indian artifacts to swimming pigs, there’s something for everyone on the San Marcos River.
Archbishop Patrick Flores acts like a country priest, but he has a tough job: he is the most powerful Catholic clergyman in Texas, and perhaps the most powerful Mexican American as well.
The last word on tortillas: how to make them, when to eat them, and why they should be in every artist’s studio.
Astronauts used to be dashing pilots. Now they’re doctors, scientists, and . . . sanitary engineers.
Nineteen people you voted for and one you didn't.
These gifts should activate the wanderlust in any recent graduate.