“My boyfriend is a skater,” said the waitress.
Terlingua is hard to spell and even more difficult to get to. No one ends up in a small desert town by accident. Located west of Big Bend National Park, the small town is at the crossroads of nowhere and hard to find.
Rows of tall, empty cardboard boxes stand at attention waiting to be filled. Each box represents a family in need; each family represents a child or several children. There are hundreds of them. The math equates to more than 3,000 Galveston County children in need this season.
My wife will not walk into a room when a baseball game is playing on the television. Welcome to the life of a spouse married to a superstitious baseball fan.
The Daily News is proud of Galveston County. Faced with one of the most difficult chapters in regional history, our community has come together with remarkable compassion, resourcefulness and good, old-fashioned Texas work ethic. We salute you.
Now we rebuild. With Tropical Storm Harvey behind us, Galveston County is left with the monumental task of rebuilding lives, homes and businesses. And in many cases, these threads creating the fabric of our communities are at risk.
The Daily News is going to do all it can to help our local businesses recover. While many have sustained storm damage, others are opening their doors to customers. And more will reopen in the coming days. What we hope to do is help get the word out of who is open for business.
Harvey, please go away. If it wasn’t bad enough you came ashore near Rockport, dumping feet of rain on Galveston County, you backed up and made another pass — this time south of us on your way to Louisiana.
A friend was telling me about how in high school he missed an important test. He had gone out of town on a Thursday night with a friend to a concert, and on the way back their car broke down. Unable to get home, they stayed the night with a friend’s family member, eventually making their way…
Bullies come in all sizes and shapes. Mine was 8 feet tall, had a face covered with hair and a booming voice that made you squint. At least that is how, as a small seventh-grader, I saw this ninth-grader each morning when I boarded a bus headed for my new school.
Riding my bicycle beneath the canopy of low-hanging live oak trees of a quiet side street, a pair of small objects to my left redirect a flash of light into my sunglasses.