Don’t Call Him “Little Tex”

If you call him “Lil’ Tex,” the lawyers for the Texas State Fair will come swooping down with a cease and desist order. That’s why the 22-foot cowboy who stands near the intersection of FM 1417 and Plainview Road goes by an alias even though his resemblance to his more famous cousin is striking.

Photo of Dan Acree

The Greatest Motivator

For Me, This Magazine is the Single Most Rewarding Business Venture Ever.

Gerard C. Eakedale said it. I’ve experienced it. Recognition is the greatest motivator. Almost from the instant the first copy of this magazine got into people’s hands on December 15, it was recognized as something to be proud of.

Channel Churn

Texoma television has changed, and more change is on the way. Deciphering the channel landscape is daunting. It is like trying to follow one of the latest convoluted thrillers, provided of course, that you can figure out what channel it is on.

Symphony Solo

In 1966, Cecil Isaac, an Austin College music professor emeritus, brought together 30 or so volunteer musicians and formed the Sherman Civic Orchestra.

Not long after that, he found a few professional players to join the group, and Sherman had itself a full-fledged symphony. Professor Isaac is retired now and lives in Washington, but his musical creation plays on.

Gail’s Gorgeous Gardens

An early morning breeze bears the summer sweetness of roses. Your eyes catch the splendor of moonflower just closing, and hummingbirds dart from bloom to bloom on the trumpet vine. A barn rooster’s crow breaks the silence. Dew shines on the rose petals, and the cattle begin to stir.

Lupe’s Tamales

Think Wall Street. Very good. What comes to mind? Bears, bulls, stock exchange, high finance, tamales—Whoa! One moment please. What have tamales got to do with Wall Street? Well, it’s all about location. If you are thinking about the Wall Street in the Big Apple, all of those money references are a natural, but if it’s Wall Street in Sherman, then tamales take center stage—Lupe’s World Famous Tamales to be precise.

Devolli’s Italian Restaurant

It’s small for a restaurant kitchen. The four-burner commercial range sits between a sink and a waist-high cooler, which in turn rubs against a multi-level baking oven and warmer. On the weekends, when Devolli’s Italian Restaurant is jumping with customers waiting for dinner, Frank Devolli and his assistant have to watch out, lest they collide somewhere around the tall pot of red tomato sauce that usually sits on the corner of the range.