The legendary sports journalist and founder of the indispensable magazine that bore his name died last week at the age of 96.
The celebrated Fort Worth writer and entrepreneur spent most of his life in exile from his home state. But it never lost its grip on his imagination.
Over a career spanning three decades, Griffith chronicled the evolution of Texas from a culinary backwater to a major player on the national scene.
The right-hander, the onetime most-feared pitcher in baseball whose career was cut short by a devastating stroke, died last week at 71.
The Dallas singer never quite became a huge star in his own right, but that didn't seem to bother him.
The former Texas Longhorns head coach was “one of those guys ... you realize that part of your lifestyle is based on things you learned from him."
The New York–born singer-songwriter got to Texas as soon as he could—and spent the next five decades changing the lives of seemingly everyone he met.
The visionary playwright, who grew up in South Texas, passed away this week from coronavirus-related complications.
The Houston icon, who passed away yesterday, sang a lot of other music too.
The colorful mogul lost the 1990 gubernatorial election after making a joke about rape and admitting to not paying some income taxes.
The 76-year-old artist died just past midnight on Christmas Eve at his home in Austin.
Ray Gene, proprietor of Longview’s singular It’ll Do Tavern, passed away last weekend.
He was the sort of local icon that lives at the heart of every enduring, tight-knit music scene.
The Dallas oilman and corporate raider's long, complicated history as an aw-shucks billionaire.
The artist’s iconic ”Jeremiah” frog mural in Austin is seemingly indestructible, and so is his musical legacy.
From the Hill Country to the High Plains, the Texas wine industry remembers the woman known for her generous spirit and sharp palate.
The prolific avant-garde director, who died earlier this week, was an unparalleled innovator on North Texas stages.
Long before Texans had heard of “no pass, no play,” and before free trade was a major political issue, H. Ross Perot entered my life as a super-patriot who believed perseverance was the key to success.
The eccentric Texan billionaire and former two-time independent presidential candidate leaves an outsized legacy.
The Fort Davis historian and raconteur knew and loved Texas and its people like no one else.
The UT professor and longtime ’Texas Monthly’ contributor died on Saturday at the age of 79 after a stroke.
Peppard was the last of his breed, covering with panache the feuds and foibles of his city’s bold-faced names.
For the Renaissance man—a baseball player, a features writer, and an award-winning documentary filmmaker—the sky posed no limit.
The Southwest Airlines cofounder was a pioneering entrepreneur who changed the way we travel. He was also a world-class wit, a bon vivant, and a not-so-closet intellectual.
The 41st president's death comes less than eight months after that of his wife, Barbara.
The host of the beloved radio show "Twine Time" on KUTX in Austin died Friday at 73.
A humble send-off to some of the greatest Texans who died this year.
Considering the pet obituary.
Bunker Hunt, RIP.
Remembering Johnny Winter.
The 76-year-old Amarilloan gained international fame for funding the Cadillac Ranch art installation, which turns forty this weekend. But his legacy was tainted by sordid allegations of sexual abuse.
Big Tex will be back. Sadly, we cannot the say same of Larry Hagman, Darrell Royal, Amarillo Slim, Leslie, and the many other Texans we lost in 2012.
Big Tex went up in flames Friday.
Leslie, homeless icon and local celebrity, passed away early Thursday morning.
The Beaumont-raised country crooner, known for the number-one hit "Blanket on the Ground," died of lung cancer at her home in Vidor.
A terrific and prolific photographer remembered.
The life and legacy of a Texas icon.
He never met a man who didn’t like him. L.T. Felty, who died March 17, was born in Hickory Creek, but he spent forty-plus years in Waxahachie, where his genial and helpful manner as a schoolteacher and coach earned him the unofficial title of Mr. Waxahachie. (Christened solely with rhyming
Lyndon Johnson left an indelible impression on people—and a few black and blue marks, too.
Some last words, reverent and irreverent, like Lyndon himself.