San Angelo, Texas, has something special

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© St. Petersburg Times
published April 17, 2002

SAN ANGELO, Texas -- I am in this beautiful West Texas city to look for housing. From Aug. 23 to Dec. 13, I will be the 2002 American Electric Power/West Texas Utilities Distinguished Visiting Faculty at Angelo State University.

As such, I will teach two courses, one in the English department, the other in journalism. Along with teaching, I will write my two weekly columns for the St. Petersburg Times.

That said, I have enjoyed my three days here. As one who travels all the time, I have developed a sixth sense for determining within a few hours, even minutes, if I will like or dislike a new place, if I will be welcome or unwelcome.

In the middle of ranching country and on the Concho River, San Angelo is one of the largest cities in the nation, nearly 90,000 residents, without a nearby interstate highway, a situation that puts the city about 200 miles from every other major city.

Not having an interstate isolates San Angelo. But with its three lakes, it is an oasis of green lawns, live oak, mesquite and pecan trees.

Many residents complain about the physical isolation. But they do not fool me. Beneath phrases such as "out in the middle of nowhere" and "you don't come through here on the way to somewhere else," I detect fierce pride, a distinct Angeloan world view.

For the last six years, the region has been in a drought. The day before I arrived from Tampa, the Weather Channel predicted tons of rain from a tornado system. The precipitation flirted with the city limits but headed away.

To say that water is a precious resource is to recite a cruel joke. Conservation is wisdom, and the people here take pride in being wise. Because the average summer temperature is 96 degrees and average precipitation 20 inches, you had better have your wits about you if you intend to live out here comfortably.

To stretch resources, the city, among other methods, makes great use of its coliseum. During winter, the floor is frozen for ice hockey. During spring, the ice is dumped, and the hooves of rodeo horses, bulls and calves kick up imported and trucked-in dirt.

I had the pleasure of experiencing a San Angelo tradition: dining at Lowake Steak House. At one time, the place sported an airstrip. The wealthy and their guests would fly to this simple building, in an endless field, to eat some of the juiciest, garlic-seasoned steaks anywhere.

As my host, George Shankle, head of the university's chemistry department, and I ate, I noticed eight people -- members of a three-generation family -- seated at two tables pushed together. What struck me were the huge cowboy hats the six men wore. Listen, we are talking brims with wingspan. These cowpokes did not take off their hats while eating some of the biggest steaks in the world.

The hats are part of the men's identity -- local ranchers out on a Sunday night, eating their favorite meal at their favorite restaurant. As they left, one man, who must have been second generation, looked at me, smiled and tipped his hat. I lifted my beer.

On San Angelo State's campus, two men were hanging paintings. I saw their ladder and tools. Sure enough, their cowboy hats (one black, one white) lay on the floor like designer umbrellas.

From then on, I actively searched for cowboy hats. Everywhere I looked, I saw them. In the past, such hats indicated backwardness to me. Never again. The Western-style hat symbolizes what these people do for a living, how they connect with the vast, sun-baked terrain they choose to work in.

The hat tops off the seamless union of work and play. It finishes off a cowpoke's uniform (signature shirt, trousers, belt and boots) and gives him camaraderie with others who love their animals and the range. Even if he does not work the range and own animals, he experiences that lifestyle vicariously when he wears that hat. Obviously, this is not unique to San Angelo. But San Angeloans have their own style.

As a history buff, I also look forward to teaching in San Angelo because it is home to Fort Concho, founded in 1867 to help protect immigrant and stage coach routes from Indian attacks. The fort was home to the famous Buffalo Soldiers -- the black 10th Cavalrymen who rode out on dangerous horseback maneuvers to defend white people against Indians.

During my stay in San Angelo, I sensed a love of place I do not sense back home in Tampa Bay, where so many residents are from somewhere else. When I return to San Angelo in August, I will live in a B&B called the Chicken Farm. It really was a chicken farm until 30 years ago. Now, it houses artists and writers -- even newspaper columnists.

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