Texas Highways Magazine October 2019

Often, the most gratifying parts of travel are the places or moments that take us by surprise. In honor of recent staff promotions, I asked our newly minted managing editor and writers-at-large to share a rewarding discovery they’ve made in their nearly 70 combined years of writing about Texas. I hope their revelations inspire one of your own. "It's humbling—how many warm souls there are who have great stories to tell." Michael Hoinski, managing editor: For the last day of summer break, my wife and I took our daughter and her friend to Hamilton Pool in Dripping Springs. I’m embarrassed that after living in Austin for almost 15 years, it was my first visit there. Hello—love at first sight. The natural beauty, the refreshing water, and the hikes in and out that…

For “What Lies in the Shadows” (Page 36), photographers were tasked not only with working in reportedly haunted areas but also with making sure the photos captured the locations’ eeriness. Nathan Lindstrom, who shot Bragg Road in Saratoga, used special equipment to give a spectral glow. “My studio manager, John Maxwell, and I set up large strobe lights in the middle of the road to create the effect of a train coming,” he says. “Then John pulled a generator and fog machine up and down the road to give a supernatural vibe to the lights shining toward the camera.” While the photographers didn’t experience anything paranormal, there were some hair-raising incidents. “I was setting up the camera on a tripod in the stairwell [at Yorktown Memorial Hospital] when a cat…

Steven L. Davis San Marcos-based Davis penned “In Defense of Dobie” (Page 12) about a festival devoted to the father of Texas literature. “I’d earlier written a biography of J. Frank Dobie, but hearing storytellers share his words around a blazing campfire helped me gain a fuller appreciation for him as a writer,” he says. Davis is the literary curator of The Wittliff Collections at Texas State University and the author of several books. He recently edited a collection of Dobie’s writing, The Essential J. Frank Dobie (Texas A&M University Press). Bill Sallans Houston native Sallans photographed bassists and luthiers for the feature “All About That Bass” (Page 58). “It was great to see the diversity of style and musical talent,” says the photographer, who is now based in Austin. “I know there…

Soft Landing Good article about Apollo’s 50th anniversary [“Remembering the Moonshot,” July]. However, Mr. Brinkley didn’t mention that the first thing to touch the moon, on that first human landing, contained materials made by Texans in Graham at the now closed Hexcel manufacturing plant. The energy absorption material contained in the legs of the lunar module was made there and provided the astronauts with a safe and cushioned landing on the moon. Wayne Williams, Burleson A Tragic Turning Point The New London school explosion [“The Day a Generation Died,” August] was and still is a horrific tragedy with the loss of lives of students and teachers. But in recalling how terrible the explosion was, the lives that were lost, and the awful aftermath that is depicted in the New London Museum and in stories…

Navasota has long stoked history buffs’ imaginations. It was, after all, the area where historians believe French explorer Sieur de La Salle was murdered in 1687. Then, as a 19th-century railhead on the Navasota River, the town bustled with both commerce and unsavory characters with little regard for the law. Legendary lawman Frank Hamer helped bring order in the early 1900s, and according to local history, his buggy driver was none other than Mance Lipscomb, who would become one of Texas’ most influential blues musicians. Lipscomb grew up among sharecroppers who picked cotton by day and blues guitar by night, sowing a creative legacy that underpins Navasota’s burgeoning reputation for arts and culture. As proprietor of The Gallery Downtown, Pattie Pederson has played a key role in Navasota’s cultural rebirth…

On a soft autumn evening last year, I stood in a South Texas ghost town, ready to climb up onto the bed of a rusted old pickup truck and speak to nearly 300 people. The bed had been fashioned into a wooden stage, decked with stringed lights and a small reading lamp. Nearby, a campfire’s flames licked the cooling air. I looked out at the audience, friendly folks who’d brought their own lawn chairs for this occasion. A breeze rustled through the leaves and a fading orange glow hugged the southwestern horizon. What a perfect night for me to share old-time tales collected by J. Frank Dobie, the father of Texas literature Dobie had been dead more than 50 years, but I’d just put together a new book of his best…