“Other states were carved or born, Texas grew from hide and horn.”
–Texas author Berta Hart Nance,
I had been enthralled with mythical Texas ever since rooting for John Wayne in “Red River” when I was just a sprout.
The region once populated by free-roaming buffalo, proud Comanches and legendary cattlemen held a romantic appeal that knew no bounds. What a disappointment it was to finally journey south of the Red River and find the endless plains parceled into sections, with downtown Dallas and Houston resembling miniature versions of Los Angeles.
But then I discovered Ft. Worth.
Though as modern and culturally refined as any city its size (1997 pop.: 477,850), Ft. Worth owes its very existence to the great trail drives of the 1860s and ’70s, and pride in that legacy is reflected at every turn.
Cowboy to the core, the city offers visitors an unsurpassed concentration of all things Western and satisfies the hankerings of anyone who has ever admired a Charlie Russell painting, danced to the music of Bob Wills or thrilled to the rough and tumble of competitive rodeo. “Cowtown” is, as they say, “where the West begins.”
My introduction to Ft. Worth occurred at singer Red Steagall’s annual Cowboy Gathering and Western Swing Festival, held each October in the Stockyards National Historic District. I’d taken a late flight and assumed that the opening festivities of the three-day festival would be over by the time I arrived. But at 11 p.m., Exchange Avenue resembled a western version of New Orleans’ Bourbon Street.
Had I not booked months earlier, it would have been impossible to get a room at the popular Stockyards Hotel (817-625-6427), especially on this weekend. Located at 109 E. Exchange Ave., the newly refurbished hotel has been hosting cattlemen, transients and, most recently, tourists since 1906. Its elegant lobby features lots of polished wood and brass, furniture upholstered in hair-side-up cowhide and an attractive selection of southwestern art–a motif continued throughout the 52 guest rooms upstairs.
Although most of the hotel was peaceful and quiet, it was standing-room-only in the downstairs Booger Red Saloon. Named for an old-time bronc buster, the lively watering hole features an impressive oak bar, an elaborate belt and pulley ceiling fan system and, most notably, a row of tricky-to-mount saddle-topped bar stools.
With the night still hopping, there was time to wander down the street to the Stockyards Pavilion to enjoy what remained of the evening’s music and dancing. As the tall-hat-and-big-buckle crowd two-stepped around the dance floor, I was mesmerized by the twin fiddles, horns and steel guitars that produced the stomp-and-holler brand of music known as western swing.
Best described as cowboy jazz, it was invented right here in Ft. Worth and introduced to WBAP radio listeners by fiddler Bob Wills in the early 1930s. Elements of the style are heard today in the music of Asleep at the Wheel and George Strait, but there’s nothing like listening to Red Steagall’s hit song “Lone Star Beer and Bob Wills Music” in an open-air pavilion so close to where the sound was born.
The next morning I began to explore the city within the city, a district most often referred to as “the stockyards.” Horace Craig, a retired Ft. Worth Star-Telegram reporter, has produced a wonderful guidebook that recounts the neighborhood’s colorful past. Sold nearly everywhere ($6.95 locally–or call 817-625-5087), the paperback proved invaluable in helping me appreciate the area’s significance.
Ft. Worth began in 1849 as a military camp to protect settlers moving into north Texas. As the frontier expanded, the soldiers moved west, and the community could have withered and died, but time and circumstance assured its survival.
After the Civil War, Texas was a wasteland of poverty and despair, but while her sons had been off fighting for the Confederacy, their neglected herds of longhorn cattle had gone wild and multiplied. Worth just $2 a head locally, they could fetch as much as $40 in northern markets. Economic salvation was simply a matter of rounding them up and driving them to the nearest railroad. So began the golden age of the cowboy.
Situated midway between the cattle ranges of south Texas and the rail heads in Kansas, Ft. Worth flourished as the last outfitting station before heading up the final leg of the Chisholm Trail.
The boom times continued when rail lines were extended to Ft. Worth from the east in 1876. No longer just a stop along the trail, the rapidly growing city was now a viable cattle market. The turn-of-the-century arrival of Chicago meat packers Swift and Armour brought prosperity of a more lasting duration. It was then that the stockyards took on the complexion that survives today — the magnificent California mission-style Livestock Exchange Building, the cavernous horse and mule barns and the mighty Cowtown Coliseum, home of the world’s first indoor rodeo.
By the 1960s, livestock processing no longer required a central location. Interstate highways replaced railroads and smaller packing houses proved more efficient than the giant corporations. Ft. Worth’s 100-year reign as the Southwest’s major livestock center slowly ground to a halt.
For a time, the district was notorious for its flophouses and derelicts. Hoping to give the north side of town a new face, developers, with the support of many on the city council, thought it best to bulldoze the entire complex and convert the land into an industrial park.
“Hold your horses,” argued a number of well-heeled entrepreneurs. Not only were the stockyards an irreplaceable part of Ft. Worth’s heritage, but they also had tremendous potential as a tourist draw. To assure that control remained in local hands, manufacturer Holt Hickman and others began buying up the properties one by one.
“Our goal,” says Steve Murrin, former city councilman, preservationist and self-proclaimed “Mayor of Cowtown,” “is preservation through utilization. The problem is that it’s such a fine line between keeping the quality of the heritage factor balanced with the more profitable, tourist-oriented schlock stuff.”
For this out-of-town visitor, that’s a goal that appears to have been realized. At the coliseum, professional wrestling, rock concerts and roller derbies have made way for rodeos, cattle auctions and Wild West shows. And commemorating the district’s early reliance on railroads, the 1896 Tarantula steam train offers a 21-mile excursion between Stockyards Station and the old Cotton Belt depot at Grapevine, Tex.
For those curious about what this area looked like during its heyday, there’s the Stockyards Museum, located in the rear of the Livestock Exchange Building. This ambitious collection includes rare photos, documents, posters, paintings and other memorabilia related to the cattle industry.
Blending nicely with the surrounding architecture is the visitors information center, across the street from the Exchange Building, which provides more maps and brochures than will fit in a saddlebag.
Although Exchange Avenue offers a slew of places to eat, my favorite was Riscky’s Steak House–not just for their tenderloin filet in the evening, but also for their moderately priced breakfast and lunch.
Then there are the honky-tonks. Billy Bob’s Texas is the most famous, and if you think bigger is better, this one’s for you. At 100,000 square feet, the former cattle barn can accommodate up to 6,000 revelers an evening and features top names in country music.
More to my liking was the White Elephant Saloon, directly across the street from my hotel. Owned in part by cowboy singer Don Edwards, it features live country music seven nights a week, a breezy rooftop beer garden and, inside, prompt service at bar stools that aren’t a half-mile from the men’s room.
There’s more to Ft. Worth, of course, than the Stockyards. The Cultural District, a few miles to the southwest, had to be part of my visit. But even here, the limits of my long weekend meant that on this trip I had to skip some of the city’s more sophisticated culture so I could stick to Ft. Worth’s roots.
I couldn’t, for instance, take in the paintings of Picasso and Rembrandt at the Kimbell Art Museum and pass up the Amon Carter Museum’s collection of works by Frederic Remington and Charles M. Russell. Nor could I savor the exotic plants and native flora of the Botanic Gardens and neglect the nearby Log Cabin Village, which contains the frontier home of Isaac Parker. The home is where Cynthia Ann, Parker’s niece, came to live in 1860 after being taken captive by Comanches 24 years earlier.
I also took in the historic downtown area–the third part of Ft. Worth’s “Western Triangle.” Though there were no events scheduled at the exquisite Will Rogers Equestrian Center, I made a point of stopping by the Cattleman’s Museum. What might have been a boring and self-indulgent monument to the sponsor–the Texas and Southwestern Cattle Raisers Foundation–turned out to be a splendid museum that brought to life the legend and lore of cattle drives and cowboys through “talking” mannequins (including a longhorn named Tex), film and other interactive displays.
I also had to visit Hell’s Half Acre. As an aficionado of the Old West, I’d read a lot about the area, which was notorious during the late 1800s as a haven for gamblers, thieves and prostitutes. This was where Butch Cassidy, the Sundance Kid and other members of the Wild Bunch posed for their famous derby hat photograph while spending the proceeds of a Nevada bank holdup on a Ft. Worth vacation.
The heart of the district was located at what now is the area of 10th and Main Streets. Not so much as a hitching post remains–the site is now home to the sprawling Tarrant County Convention Center–but anyone wanting to visit the site of one of the West’s last great gunfights should head up to the 300 block of Main Street. A plaque now marks the spot, just steps from the original White Elephant Saloon, where gambler Luke Short shot and killed former city marshal and extortionist “Longhair Jim” Courtright on Feb. 8, 1887.
Also sharing the block is the Sid Richardson Collection of Western Art. Although it contains nowhere near the scope of American art to be found at the Amon Carter Museum, the intimate gallery’s display of collected works by Remington and Russell is, without a doubt, among the best in the country.
At a time when the downtown areas of so many cities take on the appearance of a graveyard after 6 p.m., Ft. Worth’s Sundance Square is lively into the wee hours. A 14-block cluster of upscale restaurants, theaters, jazz clubs and specialty shops, the area is most noted for its Victorian architecture and has been cited as a model of urban renaissance.
While here, you might want to reserve a table at Reata (817-336-1009), located on the 35th floor of the Bank One Tower. Offering sweeping views of the entire Ft. Worth area, the dazzling restaurant features Texas cowboy cuisine — not just beefsteak and beans, but also barbecue shrimp enchiladas, pan-fried sweetbreads with blackberry vinaigrette, or just plain old pan-smeared pepper-crusted tenderloin with a port wine glaze.
Nobody should leave Cowtown without a fine Stetson, and although there’s hardly a store in the Stockyards that won’t have one in your size, be advised to first stop at Engler’s, located downtown at 117 Houston St. The big guy in the plainsman’s getup working behind the counter in the back room is Michael Malone. He has been customizing my cowboy hats by mail for a couple of years now, and he’s simply the best.
Don’t believe me? Just ask Tommy Lee Jones, Lyle Lovett or Charlie Daniels.
He does theirs too.
DETAILS ON FT. WORTH
Texas summers can be scorchers, so anyone contemplating a trip to historic Ft. Worth might want to consider waiting until October, when temperatures usually range in the mid-70s. If you’re looking for cowboys, horses and cattle, the best weekend by far will be Oct. 24-26, when Warner Western recording artist and Texas native Red Steagall presents his 7th annual Cowboy Gathering and Western Swing Festival.
The event, which last year drew crowds upward of 35,000, is Cowtown at its finest, offering visitors exhibitions of ranch rodeo, horsemanship clinics, chuck-wagon cooking and cowboy poetry, all topped off by nightly performances of stompin’ western swing music.
“It’s a gathering that not only preserves our Western heritage,” says Steagall, but also “presents the values of the cowboy way of life to a culture that seems to be losing it.”
Located on scattered sites throughout the Ft. Worth Stockyards National Historic District, the festivities kick off on Friday when a dozen horse-drawn chuck wagons from all over the Southwest parade down Exchange Avenue and set up camp on a shady plaza. During a weekend cook-off, contestants are judged on the authenticity of their gear and the preparation and quality of cow-camp cuisine in categories that include beef, bread, beans and dessert.
In the Cowtown Coliseum, double-tough working cowboys representing ranches such as the Outta Grass Cattle Company of Clyde, Texas, compete in ranch rodeo events. Unlike professional rodeo, this one showcases cattle-handling skills perfected on real working ranches. And if you’ve never watched it, wild-cow milking must be seen to be believed.
A very pleasant time also can be had attending a recitation of original cowboy poetry by boys and girls ages 8 to 17. The poetry is quite touching and includes reflections on cows and horses, family and home as well as aspirations for the future. It makes you wish every one of them could receive the college scholarship that goes to the winner.
Bring a little money when you wander through the Cowtown Trading Post and Cowboy Exchange. Located in the former horse and mule barns, it’s an exhibition of all manner of western merchandise–saddles, horse tack, clothing and loads of cowboy bric-a-brac. Don’t miss the booth of author and folklorist Guy Logsdon whose traveling record store contains an amazing selection of hard-to-find CDs and cassettes featuring old-time cowboy music. If he doesn’t have what you’re looking for, chances are he can order it.
On Steagall’s weekend, nighttime is the best time. That’s when he gathers his band, the Coleman County Cowboys (joined by legendary musicians Johnny Gimble and Leon Rausch), for four-hour sessions of the best Texas swing this side of San Antone. Other scheduled headliners include Riders in the Sky, Don Edwards, the Hays County Gals and Andy Wilkinson.
Tickets cost $12.50 per day in advance or $15 at the gate. Three-day passes are $30 in advance or $35 at the gate. Children 12 and under are free. For a schedule of events or to order tickets, call 817-625-1025.
ON THE RIGHT TRAIL TO THE PAST
In the easygoing atmosphere of the cowboy gathering, I had a chance to visit with event host Red Steagall. Having enjoyed his beer-drinking and truck-driving songs on country radio in the ’70s, I became reacquainted with his music when he signed with the Warner Western label a few years back.
His repertoire had changed in the ensuing decades. Instead of the popular honky-tonk numbers, he is writing and performing songs and recitations that reflect his Texas Panhandle upbringing — stories about horses, cattle and cowboys, the values of honesty and integrity, and a longing for a way of life that seems to be slipping away.
I’d met him before at other Western-oriented events, and knowing that we shared a passion for frontier history I asked if there was anything left to see of 19th Century Texas out on the plains. “Come back some time and I’ll show you,” he answered.
This spring I took him up on his offer. Departing from his Hondo Valley Ranch 16 miles outside of Ft. Worth, we headed west to Palo Pinto, where we wandered through an overgrown cemetery containing the graves of early Texas pioneers. We then drove to Newcastle and the reconstructed Ft. Belknap, formerly a link in the chain of forts established to defend settlers against Indian raids. Though tougher to locate, we also found the Salt Creek Prairie site near Ft. Richardson, where, in 1871, a marauding band of Kiowas under Satanta ambushed and killed 12 teamsters of the Warren wagon train.
But the place that intrigued me the most was Greenwood Cemetery in Weatherford, just 30 minutes west of downtown Ft. Worth. Steagall guided me to a cluster of trees where an aged and broken headstone identified the grave of Oliver Loving, “Citizen of the Republic of Texas.”
The plaque reads: “With Charles Goodnight as his partner, on a drive to New Mexico, Loving scouted ahead of the cattle, was badly wounded by Indians, laid five days without food before his rescue, and died of gangrene on Sept. 25, 1867. His dying wish was fulfilled when his son Joseph joined Goodnight to bring the body 600 miles by wagon for burial in this country.”
Sound familiar? It should, for the story was the basis for Larry McMurtry’s Pulitzer Prize-winning novel and the subsequent television miniseries “Lonesome Dove.” As far as I was concerned, beneath my feet lay the bones of that endearing rascal Gus McCrae.
Just across the lane, keeping Loving company, is the grave of Boze Ikard, the former slave who was one of Goodnight’s best cowboys and trusted friends and immortalized in McMurtry’s story as Joshua Deets.
How reassuring it was to learn that Texas as I’d imagined it survives–it was simply a matter of knowing where to look.
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For information on Ft. Worth attractions, including lodging, dining and transportation, contact: Ft. Worth Convention & Visitors Bureau, 415 Throckmorton, Ft. Worth, Texas 76102-7410; 800-433-5747.
