Thursday, May 04, 2006
Quitaque, Texas
Walking toward downtown Quitaque with the early morning sun at my back, my shadow looks tall and slender, as I was 50 years ago when this was part of my playground. One block south of me lies a cotton patch, as yet unplanted. Two blocks north is Main Street with its one traffic light. Delivering some of my books to librarian Arlene Hinkle, I happen onto one Robin Brown who does some historical writing for the local paper, sings and plays the guitar and piano. He is the baby brother of two friends of mine from the Good Old Days, a source of rich memories.
Quitaque (pronounced Kitty Kway) lies at the base of the Texas Caprock where all manner of wildlife inhabit the crags and cataracts between the rolling farm land below and the flat plains above. Buffalo, descended from Colonel Charles Goodnight's herd, roam in the Caprock Canyons State Park a few miles north of town. Hunting, fishing, friendly folk, good grub bring a steady stream of visitors to the area, helping the farmers to keep the small town alive.
A few stores on Main Street still serve the scattered community, and displays of antiques can be seen in the show windows of several empty buildings, forming an interesting sidewalk museum.
One of the remarkable things I notice about Quitaque is the total absence of dogs running loose. I would like to take some of the pet owners' vigilance back home with me, where most people who walk in the neighborhood carry a stick for protection, even though we have a law against roving dogs.
The little grocery store is run by Warren Lee Merrill, the grandson of my dad's best friend in the early 1900s. Daddy had been more or less adopted by the Merrill clan when he left home at the age of 13, working on their ranch and becoming best of friends with Warren and his new wife, Johnnie. Warren Lee had never seen me before, but he took my out-of-town check gladly. Here's to small towns and big hearts!
Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
Quitaque (pronounced Kitty Kway) lies at the base of the Texas Caprock where all manner of wildlife inhabit the crags and cataracts between the rolling farm land below and the flat plains above. Buffalo, descended from Colonel Charles Goodnight's herd, roam in the Caprock Canyons State Park a few miles north of town. Hunting, fishing, friendly folk, good grub bring a steady stream of visitors to the area, helping the farmers to keep the small town alive.
A few stores on Main Street still serve the scattered community, and displays of antiques can be seen in the show windows of several empty buildings, forming an interesting sidewalk museum.
One of the remarkable things I notice about Quitaque is the total absence of dogs running loose. I would like to take some of the pet owners' vigilance back home with me, where most people who walk in the neighborhood carry a stick for protection, even though we have a law against roving dogs.
The little grocery store is run by Warren Lee Merrill, the grandson of my dad's best friend in the early 1900s. Daddy had been more or less adopted by the Merrill clan when he left home at the age of 13, working on their ranch and becoming best of friends with Warren and his new wife, Johnnie. Warren Lee had never seen me before, but he took my out-of-town check gladly. Here's to small towns and big hearts!
Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
