A recent column by Sean Dietrich inspired this post. In it he talked about the drives he and his family took on the backroads way back when.
My family also enjoyed meandering drives on Sunday afternoons. We’d go to church, then to King’s Restaurant in Floydada, Texas. Afterwards Daddy would aim whichever secondhand car we owned at the time down one back road or another.
Sometimes we’d head in the direction of Turkey, Texas, the home of the grand master of Texas Swing, Bob Wills. Sometimes we’d head to Plainview, where singer and sausage king, Jimmy Dean hailed from. Lubbock, home of Buddy Holly, Mac Davis, and the Maines Brothers, was often our destination.
Other times we’d drive through South Plains, where my great grandparents staked their claim, and Lockney, our main rival in football. Good grief, we couldn’t stand Lockney.
I loved these drives—listening to my parents talk about the places we visited, the people who put these little towns on the map. It used to be a fantasy of mine that one day someone would drive through Floydada and say, “You know, that author, Leslie Noyes, grew up here. Her maiden name was Hall. She was Gerald and Freida’s daughter. Kind of odd as a kid, but maybe most authors are.”
Wouldn’t that be something?