This was a mere decade ago when I was considering a move to the area for work. At that point I really didn't know the difference between Dallas and Fort Worth. I wasn't truly aware of the Cowtown culture, the styles of music, the friendly people, or the unique southwestern cuisine. I didn't know Joe T. Garcia's from Taco Bell, and who the hell was the Bass family or Amon G. Carter. Lonesome Dove is just a movie right? (Tim Love would kick my ass!)See, I grew up in Georgia. Left home at 18 to go off to school, and afterward had the privilege of traveling the world. I've seen the Russian white nights, the horizons of Honduran mountains, and lost weight to dysentery in Nigeria. However, with all my worldly wanderings, I never felt at home. That is until that first night at the Blackstone Hotel.
It wasn't necessarily the Blackstone that did it for me, moreover it was something I experienced when I stepped out on the street from the hotel lobby. I heard something. A few blocks to the north I heard the sound of music in the street. Actually it wasn't IN the street, but rather, on the outdoor stage of the old 8.0 Restaurant (now Flying Saucer). So I meandered up Main till I found the source. I really wish to God that I could tell you who was playing that late summer evening (hell it's probably someone I could now say I know personally), but I guess it doesn't really matter. It was the atmosphere. People everywhere enjoying each others' company, a cold beer in the shade, and listening to what I now know was Texas music. I leaned against a street lamp, folded my arms, took a few deep breaths, watched, listened, and for the first time in my life, felt at home.
I don't know if others have ever experienced a similar epiphany, a God moment, where everything just feels right and your mind is suddenly open with an explosion of reality. That was my moment. Fort Worth, Texas was going to be my home. Not sure that I'll ever be able to fully explain what happened to me that night, but I felt like the Prodigal coming back to his daddy's house after a long trip to the nowhere. Decision made, I returned to Atlanta, Ga, packed my house and headed west. And I'm oh so thankful I did.
The city of Fort Worth and the surrounding areas have yet to disappoint, and I'm certain they never will. As the old saying goes, "I'm not from Texas, but I got here as fast as I could," would certainly apply. I laughingly refer to myself as a "Texian."
Fort Worth is only getting better, too. The advent of the updated Sundance Square has reinvigorated an already exciting downtown, and the Historic Fort Worth Stockyards will forever be my favorite haunt. I've made it a point to learn the history of my home, and at this point, I may know more about Fort Worth than many that were born here, and I personally think I make a damn good tour guide of the city. The musicians that make up the North Texas "Red Dirt" scene have forever changed my life, and I'm happy today to call many of them my friend.
This week as we approach the start of yet another historic Fort Worth Stock Show and Rodeo (www.fwssr.com) at the Will Rogers Memorial Center, I'm reminded of just how far this Georgia boy has come as a citizen of the area I love. Ten years ago I walked up Main Street Fort Worth on my own two feet to hear the sounds of music. This weekend I will walk up the same street, thanks to Chapman Family Ranches (Chapman Family Ranches) and my good buddy, and true friend, Trey Chapman (Trey Chapman Fan Page), to the sounds of hundreds of thousands of people, but this time on four feet, well, actually hooves, as I ride in the Stock Show Parade. I have a pretty good feeling that I'm going to feel right at home.
Ride On!
