
Patient Observation
Wichita Falls was about as average a town as you could imagine. Except within the gates of the state hospital.
Wichita Falls was about as average a town as you could imagine. Except within the gates of the state hospital.
At the port of entry in El Paso, I always tell the agents, “American,” but what I really want to say is “fronterizo”—I’m from both sides.
Searching for the legendary past—and the cosmic future—in my old river city, San Antonio de Béjar.
They may disagree on just about everything, but Rick Perry and Bill White have one thing in common: a Texas childhood.
The Permian Basin is a place of pump jacks, big sky, generous neighbors, stinging sandstorms, and lonesome highways. For former first lady Laura Bush, it was the scene of an idyllic childhood—and a tragic accident that changed her life forever.
In the late sixties, the Capital City was just as thrilling, drug-addled, pompous, and aimless as you’ve heard. Especially if you came from the provinces.
Before Rick Perry was fighting for the governorship of the second-largest state in the country, he was just a kid from Paint Creek.
Before he was fighting for the governorship of the second-largest state in the country, Bill White was just a kid from Texas.
A fond look back at Temple, a.k.a. Ratsville and/or Tanglefoot, that fair burg wherein your dedicated advice columnist learned the location of the thin line between right and wrong.
Thousands of children in Iraq have been diagnosed with congenital heart disease. Too few of them receive the surgery they so desperately need.
A travel writer makes her (cautious) way through Latin America.
I had never thought about my identity as both a Jew and a Texan until my grandparents told me their stories about growing up in South Dallas in the forties.
A recipe using fresh red snapper from the Gulf, by executive chef Miguel Ravago of Fonda San Miguel, Austin.
This is our second “Where I’m From” special issue, in which the entire magazine, front to back, is given over to stories about growing up in Texas. Last time, most of the essays were by staff writers. This time we turned to some of our favorite authors, folks like
I am writing you these few lines to thank you and your staff for remembering my daughter on the fifteenth anniversary of her death [“Dreaming of Her,” April 2010]. It was a beautiful story that brought back a lot of memories for my wife, myself, and my family.