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Texas MonthlyTexas Monthly

Texas Monthly

February 2019

Texas Monthly has been the authority on the Texas scene since 1973, covering music, arts, travel, restaurants and events with its insightful recommendations. Above all, Texas Monthly provides its readers with a magazine of the highest editorial quality, a standard that has earned it 10 National Magazine Awards, the industry’s most coveted prize.

United States
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12 Issues


access_time3 min.
love letters & farewell letters

A WAVE OF NORTH CAROLINIANS came to Texas in the early nineteenth century, some of them, legend has it, fleeing the law. My wife and I followed them a bit later—in 1995, to be precise. Only extradition could force me to leave, and the chances of that are slim. I have a clean rap sheet.When I first arrived in Texas, one place I turned to in order to understand my adopted home was Texas Monthly, which has been giving Texans, both new and old, insights into this exceptional place for nearly half a century. The magazine you hold in your hands is a case in point. This is the first time we’ve swapped out one of our monthly issues for a collector’s issue curating stories from our archives that celebrate…

access_time6 min.
where i’m from

EL PASO AND THE BORDERLANDSBY DAVID DORADO ROMOFrom “A River Runs Through It,” originally published in June 2010Growing up I had no idea of the multiple layers of meaning connected to the places I passed through every day. The layers opened up slowly. One such place was the Santa Fe Street international bridge, which links El Paso to Juárez. In many ways this binational thoroughfare best captures the essence of the fragmented city I’m from, a city originally called El Paso del Norte (the Pass of the North) that was later split in two along the Rio Grande. As a kid, going back and forth across the river was no big deal. We did it several times a week—to visit friends and relatives, eat at restaurants, and buy groceries in…

access_time3 min.
the golden isles of georgia

Avenue of the Oaks, St. Simons IslandALONG the Georgia coast lies a stretch of land that is like no other. Here you will find centuries-old oak trees draped with Spanish moss that line the streets and meet miles of sun-drenched beaches. Vast marshlands, winding rivers, and plentiful natural and outdoor diversions beckon visitors who return for generations. The destination is reminiscent of a bygone era as historic landmarks can be found around every bend.There is a distinct southern culture in the Golden Isles founded on tradition and so welcoming you will notice it immediately upon your arrival. A friendly stance for visitors, an intense pride in our region’s history, beauty of landscape, maritime forests and meandering rivers – a blend of many components where the very isolation of the south…

access_time4 min.
nobody loves a rattlesnake

During long drives to his wife’s hometown in West Texas, Stephen Harrigan became intrigued by highway billboards advertising a peculiar-sounding “rattlesnake roundup” in Sweetwater. When he chronicled the event in 1976 for the story excerpted here, he found—along with snakes, a lot of snakes—a scene playing out that spoke to human settlement in the West, the sometimes futile effort to tame the land, and the way we celebrate living in a wild place.SEVERAL HOURS BEFORE the 1976 Sweetwater Rattlesnake Roundup is officially to begin, two Jaycees in red felt vests and red-white-and-blue baseball caps cross the floor of the Nolan County Coliseum. Between them they carry a metal garbage can that is so heavily loaded they can barely skim it above the ground. When the Jaycees reach a white octagonal…

access_time6 min.
the end of the trail

Throughout the twentieth century, few places sat as close to the center of the Texas cattle industry as Fort Worth did. All roads led to the stockyards. When the late Al Reinert arrived to report the article excerpted below, the stockyards had fallen on the wrong side of the boom-and-bust cycle that has always defined the state’s iconic industries. But, as Reinert found, to the stubbornly proud men and women who’d long lived by the vagaries of the land and the weather and the market, their work was a way of life that wouldn’t shake easily.FRANTICALLY SQUEALING AND MOOing, as if somehow aware of their destination, two cows and four calves lurch and bounce through an August Monday morning in the trailer towed by J. B. Haisler’s half-ton Chevy pickup.…

access_time23 min.
conversations with a grasshopper

Selfies of the author during his weeklong adventure.This is who I am: a flyspeck of human vanity in a trillion miles of stone-dead interstellar space; a graceless lump of flesh and fear in a remote desert where nearly everything that I can see or touch is designed to hurt me. ¶ At least that is how I feel just now. It is well past midnight on the chilly, windswept early morning of November 13, 2003. I am kneeling at the exact center of my REI hexagonal nylon tent, listening to the roar of the wind in the canyon and trying to decide whether to scream, pray, or try to go back to sleep. My tent is located near the Mexican border in southwest Texas, on the mountainous rim of a…