Looking Back at a Year Gone By

It’s hard to believe but this week marks the completion of my first full year with the Haskell Star. And what a year it’s been! So here are some things that come to my mind as I reflect upon the twelve months that have gone by.

New Community Leadership. This has certainly been a year of transition and change. For one reason or another, we have new leadership in several key areas of the community. Michelle Stevens is the new CEO at Haskell Memorial Hospital. Lonnie Hise has returned to Haskell to assume the duties of Superintendent for Haskell CISD. Coach Mitch McLemore, remembered with such respect from his days in Stamford, has taken over as Haskell’s Athletic Director and Head Football Coach. And last but not least, June Ellis has begun his tenure as Haskell’s City Administrator, bringing his financial management experience to our city’s benefit.

And they are not the only ones – just in the last few weeks, the DCOH Director and the Haskell Chamber of Commerce Director have both resigned, for unrelated reasons. Of course, this means we will soon be having new leadership in those key positions, as well.

We welcome all these folks to their new posts and pray for their success, because to paraphrase outgoing President George H.W. Bush’s comments to incoming President Bill Clinton, their success will be Haskell’s success. They will undoubtedly bring some new ways of thinking and fresh ideas with them – AND THAT’S A GOOD THING! We can’t solve tomorrow’s problems with yesterday’s answers, so before we write off some “new-fangled” approach because “we’ve never done it that way,” let’s be willing to listen, to learn, and perhaps to grow.

Remember, every great idea was once just somebody’s harebrained scheme.

Haskell is Booming. Some of us were born here; others of us got here as soon as we could. (A few of us came and left and came back!) But however it happened, we are happy to be in Haskell, and we recognize the blessings of being part of a vibrant community. Part of that vibrancy is a growing number of businesses and an expanding economic base. Our Development Corporation of Haskell, the DCOH, has been a valuable part of that expansion.

Just in the last few weeks, we have seen new businesses and restaurants come in, and existing ones expand and grow. Some of these include Kaleidoscope, with its numerous venues for crafters and local artists to show their merchandise; Sunnybell Florist & Gift Shoppe, now open on the north side of the square; HASK – Roewe Outfitters, catering to this area’s hunting needs and outdoor tourism; The Ugly Mug Kitchen, planning to open soon for coffee, breakfast, and lunch; and Vista Bank, which recently moved into the historic bank building on the northwest corner of the square. The new P6 Tire Store is having their Grand Opening next month, and let’s not forget the Historic Jones & Cox Building, on the southwest corner, now providing another much-needed venue for concerts and meetings.

The Drug Store has recently changed owners but kept its commitment to service. The new Texas Star Museum honors local history. Modern Way Grocery Store & Ace Hardware celebrated their 40^th anniversary a few months back. ALL our community’s establishments – new and old – deserve to be celebrated. More than that, they just want a chance. They are the ones who support our kids, our schools, and our churches, not to mention the Scouts, the athletic programs, the livestock show, and more. They are the businesses that donate and contribute so much to our way of life. They understand that they have to compete for the dollars that you spend. But before you head off to Abilene to shop at some Big Box retailer that doesn’t care about our community, please give our local businesses a chance to earn your business.

And finally, one bit of unhappy news –

Get the Shot. Coronavirus numbers are surging again. Infection rates are rising, as are the number of fatalities. Hospital ICU admissions are swelling, even at Hendrick, with dangerously rising Covid rates. And this time, it’s not primarily among the elderly, but among 20-40-year-olds. Literally thousands of children being orphaned by this disease.

And the sad part is, this time, it’s pretty much all preventable. They’re now calling it “The Pandemic of the Unvaccinated.”

I truly don’t understand how or why the decision to get vaccinated became such a politically charged controversy. It shouldn’t be – it’s a health issue, pure and simple. Yes, there are a relative handful of so-called “Breakthrough” cases, of people who have been fully vaccinated but contracted the disease anyway, but the overwhelming number of this latest wave of fatalities – something literally above 99% – are folks who could have gotten the shot, but out of pride, or fear, or some kind of stupid macho nonsense, or to make a political statement, chose not to.

The longer it takes us as a nation to become fully vaccinated, the more of these virus mutations will keep popping up, and the longer the economy will take to recover. Well over 600,000 of our fellow citizens have already died. It shouldn’t matter if you’re a Republican or a Democrat, a watcher of Fox News or CNN – just get the damn shot. Please. For yourself. For your family. For the country.

Thoughts While Traveling

Kathy and I are just back from our vacation, and we had a wonderful time. We went to the Metroplex and got to spend time with our son there, then we flew to Baltimore and spent a few days with our daughter there, whom we hadn’t seen since before Thanksgiving. We were able to go to a Rangers game and we visited Washington, DC, saw a lot of famous sights and historical sites, and ate a bunch of really good seafood. And in the coming weeks, I’ll tell you more about where we went and what we saw, but for now, I want to share some observations I had while we were on our trip – random thoughts about traveling.

This was the first real trip we have taken together in over two years, partly because of moving back to Haskell, and partly due to the pandemic. And as a lot of people have observed, we were definitely happy to just be going SOMEWHERE – she and I are both fully vaccinated, and it’s just nice to be able to be “out and about,” to see different locations and some new faces. So here are some things that I noticed in the midst of our goings and comings:

It’s been a very green year. All the way on our drive over to Ft. Worth and Dallas, we both kept talking about how pretty and green the countryside was and is. By this point in a normal year, the grass would be brown, the wildflowers would all be long dead, and even the trees would be looking droopy and dried up. Not this year. The grass is still lush and green, and it’s nice to see. And Thank You, Lord, for the rain.

“O say, can you see?” We went to a Rangers game Saturday afternoon at the new Globe Life Field ballpark – it is air conditioned with a retractable roof, and a very comfortable place to watch a ballgame. (The Rangers lost in extra innings to the A’s.)

Anyway, I was in line at a concession stand before the game started, and had just gotten to the register, to pay the man for our order, when we heard the familiar opening notes of the Star-Spangled Banner. The cashier said to me, “Just a moment, sir – we will wait until the anthem is finished.” I glanced around and sure enough, everywhere I looked, all the concessionaires were standing still, in a posture of respect, and the whole area fell silent.

In my mind suddenly, I was with my mom and dad, my brothers, and our grandmother, and we were at an Astros game in the late 60s. I looked over and noticed that my grandmother wasn’t singing, so after it was finished, I asked her about it. She reminded me that one of her brothers had been killed in Korea, during an enemy rocket attack, and she said that the lyric about “the rocket’s red glare” was painful for her to think about.

Just then, the anthem was over, and I remembered that I was in line, buying nachos and sodas – but now with unspoken gratitude to the management there for putting commerce aside for three minutes and honoring our National Anthem and all that it means.

A lot of smiles. I have to admit, I was a little anxious about my first plane ride in a couple of years. Not because I’m afraid of flying, but because of all the horror stories that have been in the news in recent weeks regarding the extremely disruptive behavior of many travelers. I’m sure you’ve heard these stories, as well, about passengers going crazy on flights, acting disorderly, even trying to open exit doors in midair.

But those worries were absolutely pointless. From the TSA agents to the Southwest ticket and gate staff, to the flight and cabin crews and our fellow flyers, everyone seemed to be smiling and patient, and just trying to get to their destinations with a minimum of fuss and bother. It was nice.

Taking off is the best part. My favorite part of any flight has always been that moment that comes after you’re finally on board and seated, with all of your gear stowed and the seat backs and tray tables in their full upright and locked position. The plane is taxiing along and finally gets to the runway, then turns and gets lined up for takeoff. The engines begin spooling up, and then it happens: You start rolling down the runway, and you notice the seat back pushing harder and harder against your spine. You’re rapidly picking up speed and you notice the bumps of the expansion joints in the concrete below you, as the physics of flight take over and the pilots turn a 90-ton tricycle into a jet airliner. The nose lifts, then the whole plane, and off you go, into the wild blue yonder.

I love it. As far as I’m concerned, it’s the best part of the whole flight.

On Vacation

We are on vacation this week and I’m not publishing a column today. Look for a new “Sip with Dusty” article on July 23.

Thanks and God bless.

Life in the Slow Lane

I recently made a trip to East Texas and a good part of that time was spent driving on the freeway. At one point while I was on I-20, I came up behind some slow-moving traffic. I checked both mirrors and looked over my left shoulder. There was no one coming, so I pulled into the left lane and began to pass an 18-wheeler.

Suddenly my rear-view mirror was filled with the reflection of the massive grill of a large pickup – I mean, this guy was RIGHT ON my bumper. I was already going a few miles an hour over the speed limit to get around the truck that was now beside me, but I sped up as much as my little car could. I finished passing the truck and pulled back into the right lane, and the guy in the pickup roared past me, leading about three or four more cars behind him. I was going well over the speed limit by this point, and they were leaving me behind like I was standing still.

I certainly realize that there are emergencies in life, and there are times when speed is necessary, for a variety of reasons. And I’m aware that no one ever had a hit song, “Life in the Slow Lane.” Still, it seems to me that many of us would do well to take a breath and slow down a little bit from time to time.

I was in the ministry for a long time; I have also been a teacher and a neighborhood coordinator for a faith-based non-profit organization. I have done news and sports for radio and print, and if there’s one thing all those jobs have in common, it is that they all involve talking to folks and hearing their stories – building and developing relationships with other people. And the thing about relationships is, they take time. There is no substitute for this. It takes time to get to know someone, and to share stories. It takes time to sip a cup of coffee and look at pictures of family, or to share a glass of iced tea and talk baseball. Friendships and good relationships with neighbors and others develop slowly, gradually, over a long time, and they can’t be rushed. But they don’t happen by accident. Good relationships occur when someone is intentional about making them happen.

We understand this principle applies in many areas of life. When you plant a garden, you invest time and effort, and then (and only then) can you harvest your crop. When you cook a meal, it takes time to let flavor develop. But many of us have lost our understanding of this.

In a society where microwave popcorn takes too long, we’ve lost our appreciation for slowness. We have the world literally in the palm of our hands, and we can just Google whatever we want to know, for instant solutions. In our rush to get to work, to raise our kids, to juggle everything we have to do, we miss out on the joys of slowing down and savoring moments. Even in our leisure, we rush to get somewhere, so we can take it easy, forgetting that life is a journey, not a destination. So not only are we forgetting to “stop and smell the roses” – we’re not even noticing that there is a rosebush.

The good news is, things don’t have to stay that way. Summer is a great time to practice slowing down just a little. Invite a neighbor over to sit on your porch or your patio and get to know one another over something cold and wet. Fire up the grill and practice your outdoor cooking skills for your family and friends – you’ll discover it’s time well spent, and you may also discover that conversations are more enjoyable over a charcoal fire.

Or just slow down and take a moment for yourself and find some peace in the solitude.

It’s very common at graduations or weddings for parents to think about the baby that they brought home from hospital, seemingly only yesterday, but now that baby is grown up and moving out. The parents wonder, where did the time go? But by then, it’s too late to savor those moments. All you can do is cherish the moments to come.

It may take a little getting used to, and you can’t do it all the time, but there’s a lot to be said for occasionally pulling over and enjoying life in the slow lane.

The Train to Yesterday

I have been fortunate enough to get to take a number of passenger train trips over the years. One of my favorites was a special trip a few years ago with my youngest brother, David Ray. He’s a pastor at a church in Spring, Texas, just north of Houston.

My brother David and I in front of Amtrak’s “Sunset Limited” in Houston.

He and I had often talked about trains and taking a trip together on Amtrak, so we did just that – not so much to go anywhere, but more just for the experience of riding a passenger train together. We boarded the eastbound “Sunset Limited” in Houston, and toot toot, we were gone, headed for Lake Charles, Louisiana.

Now as my friends can tell you, I love trains, but as great as that part of it was, an even better part was getting to spend time with my youngest brother. We grew up in a family of four boys – he and I are the bookends, with me as the oldest and him as the youngest. Our mom’s parents lived in the small Hardin County town of Grayburg, between Beaumont and Houston.

The old Missouri Pacific RR main line ran right through there, and when we were kids visiting our grandparents, we used to spend hours down by the tracks at a small railroad sidetrack where they used to load freshly cut pine logs onto flatcars, destined to be turned into paper at one of the mills in East Texas.

(Yes, I know we shouldn’t have been playing there, and that it probably wasn’t safe. Get over it. We never wore bicycle helmets, either.)

How we loved to see freight trains coming through! The big blue and white MP engines, the long trains, and the red caboose at the end. The box cars with names of faraway places – Bangor and Aroostook, Atlantic Coast Line, the New York Central and Central of Georgia, Chicago, Burlington & Quincy and the Santa Fe, the Denver & Rio Grande and the Illinois Central, just to name a few. And when they came roaring through, it was all noise and power, sound and fury, speed and excitement. We knew to get well off the tracks and wave from a safe distance. And as Johnny Cash once observed, it was always very important that the conductor in the caboose waved back.

Somewhere I still have some flattened pennies that we made, and I remember running back to the tracks after the train had passed, to find those little squished pieces of copper, still hot from the friction of the wheels that ran over them.

And the smells on those hot afternoons – the oily odor of the creosote from the ties, and the zingy smell of hot steel in the Texas sun. We would walk along the rails and practice our balancing skills and watch the distant signal lights, hoping they would turn red, heralding the approach of another train. I have a very sweet memory of sitting on the freight platform with my dad, next to the tiny beige and brown depot, absolutely enthralled as the massive trains roared past, and watching the rail joints move up and down as the car wheels went across them.

Anyway, our grandparents have long since passed away, but the little town is still there, and so are the freight trains, now operated by Union Pacific. And when you take Amtrak heading east towards Beaumont, you go roaring right through there.

So David & I climbed aboard in downtown Houston, checked in with the conductor, and headed for the dining car and lunch. We both had a pretty good Angus beef hamburger and enjoyed a nice visit with an older lady and her niece who were returning to Florida after a trip to California. After lunch, we walked to the observation car as the train rolled through the Southeast Texas countryside and past the little towns.

Grayburg is literally just a blur when you go through there on a fast train.

The Grayburg depot is long gone, but the siding is still there, and it doesn’t take long to go past it. As we went through there and saw where we used to play, I looked over and saw my brother wiping away a tear. I asked him what he was thinking.

He said he thought he saw four little boys running over to the tracks after the train went by, looking for flattened pennies.