Friday, April 26, 2024
Sam Houston
FROM MY FRONT PORCH
Sam Houston is the publisher of the Hood County News. He is also an actor, author, playwright, performer and entertainment producer/promoter.
Texas is changing. According to some reports, approximately 100,000 people move to Texas every month and it is projected that number will continue to increase for the foreseeable future. With our growth will come a level of change.
No, I do not believe longhorn cattle will become extinct, nor will boots go out of fashion as manly footwear. But Texas will have issues with traffic, with school overcrowding, water and air pollution as well as every other issue that has to do with growth and expansion. What I am prayerful about is we never lose the feeling of “Texas.”
This past week my wife was out of town, so I was home alone for several days. When I left the office on Tuesday night, my stomach and heart were hungry to go to a “café” — a place where a man could have a good meal in simple surroundings. I jumped in my car and ended up taking the “road less traveled” to Mary’s Brazos Café located on Tin Top Road.
For those of you who have never been to Mary’s, you have unnecessarily deprived yourself of a portion of the goodness life has to offer! It’s located in a small, aged building far from the hustle and bustle of Granbury or Weatherford. Only the good Lord would know how many meals have been served on the few tables that sit in the three tiny dining areas. The atmosphere and the homestyle cooking at Mary’s are enough to make you feel like a “Texan,” but I got a special treat during my recent visit.
As I sat down in a booth to order, a waitress quickly brought me a glass of tea and a menu. I knew my taste buds were set on a chicken fried steak, so I waved off the menu, placed my order and then pulled out my phone so I could read the national news while I waited for my dinner. There was one man, sitting alone at a table, in the area I had chosen to dine. He was as weathered as the siding on an old wooden barn. He had about a week’s worth of whiskers, and the hand that held his cigarette was stained brown from many years of tobacco use. It was obvious he was a working man, a common man; a Texan.
The man glanced up from his cup of coffee and when our eyes met, we nodded at each other and then I uttered the invariable “howdy.” That was all it took. For the next 20 minutes this stranger and I had a running conversation. He told me he lived about six miles away and had lived there since 1966. He went on to let me know he had another place outside Thorp Spring, but had it leased out because he had gotten too old to drive all the way over there and check his cattle each day.
I learned he had been in the construction business for many years and had poured a “mountain of concrete” in his lifetime. He also let me know he had lost his wife 16 years ago. He asked where I lived, if I had “people” from the area, what I did to make a living. When I told him I too had ranched, we settled into a discussion about cattle, though I did a lot more listening than I did talking.
When I got up to leave, I nodded again at the old man and said, “Been good talking to you.” He looked me in the eye and said, “travel safe.” I walked over to the cashier to pay my bill and learned I did not have to pay for my dinner. The waitress had overheard me tell my new friend what I did for a living and had passed the information along to the cashier. Upon learning how I was employed, she decided to treat me to dinner as a thank-you for an article about Mary’s, which the newspaper had published last November. I protested saying it was our pleasure to do the story, but the cashier reached over and touched my hand and said, “just tip your waitress and we will be good.”
I may never see that old man again. It doesn’t matter, ‘cause on a Tuesday night in a unique Texas diner, I made a friend. I did not care what the news was on my phone, because I had connected with another human being and enjoyed the interchange. I even received a generous dose of Texas hospitality by getting my meal comped for something I had very little to do with. It was a Texas kind of night.
I pray some things about Texas never change.
Thought for the day: Never ask if a man is from Texas. If he is, he has already told you. If he is not, why would you embarrass the poor fella?
Until next time..
sam@hcnews.com | 817-573-7066, ext. 260
