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.
Pompeo Coppini’s heroic sculptures and European air were just what Texas’ fledgling gentry was hungry for in 1901. Since then his name has faded from memory, but his works endure.
It all started at my grandmother’s when I was seven years old. No biscuit has since measured up, but my lonely search for that sublime confection continues.
There are a hundred of them, and their job is invisibility. They come into giant office buildings after everyone has gone home and, if they do the job right, make the evidence of the day’s work disappear.
At a slightly wacky hotel in southern Mexico, you can lose your inhibitions and find a little romance.
He had it all: a wife and a mistress, a limousine and a motorcycle, the second-highest job at the Pentagon and some good-time Dallas buddies. Then the SEC took an interest in his life.
Why are we crazy for Cadillacs, silly on Suburbans, passionate about pickups? Because Texans love their cars, that's why.
Sculptor Donald Judd had the vision. The Dia Art Foundation had the money. Now they’ve had it with each other.
He changed the face of Texas by building warehouses that looked like office buildings. Then he built office buildings that looked like warehouses.
Bobby Morrow was America’s most celebrated Olympic athlete in 1956. Today he wishes he’d never left the starting blocks.
Sandi Barton works from 8:30 to 5 as a secretary in a downtown Dallas office. She knows a lot of women look down on her job, but it suits her just fine.
With the help of a friendly banker and some friendlier politicians, Clinton Manges conquered might Mobil Oil and saved his empire. But not for long—it’s in jeopardy again.
You don’t have to go to the country or the zoo to see wild animals; there are lizards in downtown buildings, gators in the creeks, and deer in the parking lots.
In my village in Oaxaca I had heard about those who made it big in El Norte, and I wanted to become one of them. But I didn’t know how hard life in Houston would be without papers, money, or a job.
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.
He was an aggressive cop with one of the toughest beats in Dallas. But after fourteen years and another killing, the department took him off the street and slapped him behind a desk.
Bearing Gallic sophistication and outrageously delicious desserts, the Lenôtre family has taken Dallas and Houston by storm.
The writer had no papers, but he wanted to get from Mexico to Houston. His best chance was to put his passage into the hands of a coyote, for a fat fee.
New parents, beware! The only thing I got out of my six Lamaze classes was permission to enter the delivery room with my wife.
Gary Bradley, a hot young land speculator in Austin, was in the middle of a $50 million deal when he ran into an outraged environmental movement and a lobbyist with some powerful clients. The fight was on.
Behind the scenes at regional headquarters—a sometime part-timer tells all.
It wasn’t the classiest place in Pharr to grow up, but it had tough truckers, sassy waitresses, and some of the best fry cooks in the Valley.
While most people are using their computers to balance their checkbooks and play games, these three Texans are pushing their machines and programs to the limit.
Four critical mistakes forced Texas Instruments to pull the plug on the home computer that it had once expected would dominate the market.
Hundreds of new computer companies have made Texas the likely successor to California’s Silicon Valley, and it all started with two firms in Dallas.
What do drunks, prostitutes, lunatics, and elevators have in common? They’re all part of the weird 24-hour-a-day world of the Dallas County courthouse.
When Bames-Connally Investments announced plans to build apartments in a South Austin neighborhood, the residents banded together to try to stop them. They won the battle but lost the war.
In which a group of society ladies samples the thrills and chills of an essentially masculine pastime.
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?
Austin’s Roy Spence parlayed his success in Mark White’s campaign into a job selling Walter Mondale to the American people.
The best local news programs in Texas make big bucks for their stations, but so do the worst ones. Here’s how they stack up.
Local TV news has as much to do with show biz as with journalism. Unfortunately, most viewers take it seriously.
Candy Montgomery thought her affair with Allan Gore was over, until she found herself fighting for her life against Allan’s wife.
Jerry Argovitz made himself unpopular with NFL management as an abrasive player’s agent. Now that he owns Houston’s new football team, he finds himself on the other side of the table—and the issues.
Are eye surgeons miraculously changing the lives of folks with glasses as thick as Coke-bottle bottoms, or are they just making themselves rich ?
In death as in life, the Mexican revolutionary is still causing trouble. This time the border skirmish is over his death mask.
It’s a high-rise developer’s dream. Houston’s old guard wants to turn 34 acres of downtown warehouses into an island of classy shops and pricey condos. They thought they had it wired, until Kathy Whitmire was elected mayor.
Assassination buffs come in all shapes and convictions—archivists, technologists, mob-hit theorists, and more—but they are all obsessed with Lee Harvey Oswald, and his crime is the focus of their lives.
A great man was dead and an outraged world desperately wanted someplace to lay blame. It chose Dallas and changed the city forever.
It’s a bank-eat-bank world out there.
Football recruiting makes the NCAA see red, but SMU sees orange.
In a glass-and-steel world of Houston skyscrapers, there was nothing like an art deco obelisk or a pink Gothic cathedral until architect Philip Johnson.
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.
In the hidden corners of Texas’ outback—in foresty swamp and shimmering desert—there are a few places that are still primeval.
The meat products business is no bed of top hogs.
The three-to-eleven evening shift, Bexar County Hospital, San Antonio: nurse Genene Jones was on duty in the pediatric intensive care unit, and for months babies kept having mysterious—sometimes fatal—emergencies. Why?
The old tin tray, it ain’t what it used to be. Today’s TV dinners have become “frozen cuisine.”
Ed Jones rode the oil boom to a white-collar job. It was a short trip.
Life is tough all over, but especially for Juniors.
Kids, house, husband—these are the natural enemies of a well-ordered day.
