texas

Dr Pepper: The Story of Texas’ Favorite Soft Drink

My favorite snack as a teenager was a Dr Pepper with salty peanuts. You remember: you pour the peanuts into the Dr Pepper and let them float around and season the drink. Didn’t get much better than that.

Dr Pepper is the oldest soft drink in America. Older than Coca-Cola, in fact, by a full year. It was created in 1885 by a pharmacist, Charles Alderton, in Waco, Texas. And its original name was Waco – it was served there at the soda fountain in the drugstore. The drink was an instant hit; customers would sit down on one of those old spinning stools and say, “Shoot me a Waco.”

As its popularity exploded, the makers couldn’t keep up supplying the syrup to all the other drug stores that wanted it, so a company was formed, and a new name created.

The name Dr Pepper was suggested by Wade Morrison, the owner of the drugstore. The story goes that Morrison supposedly named it after his would-be father-in-law back in Virginia, a man he wanted to impress because he was in love with his daughter.

Morrison never did get the girl, but I bet the old man Pepper regretted that rejection when Dr Pepper became a national sensation and made the not-good-enough Morrison quite rich. Maybe the saddest person in this whole affair was Charles Alderton – the pharmacist who created Dr Pepper. He simply gave away the recipe because he was more interested in medicine than marketing.

Dr Pepper’s formula is held in two separate bank vaults in Dallas. Each vault has half of the formula and no one person knows the entire secret. Coca-Cola has similar safeguards.

Contrary to soda pop mythology, Dr Pepper is not made of prune juice, nor does it have any part prune juice in it. It is made of a blend of fruit extracts. But the blend of flavors results in a uniqueness that makes many people swear that Diet Dr Pepper is the most undiety tasting soft drink in existence. And let’s not forget Dublin Dr Pepper, now sadly out of production, but once regarded as the finest Pepper of all, thanks to Imperial pure cane sugar.

Dr Pepper Poker – a version of poker where tens, twos, and fours are wild – takes its concept from the numbers 10, 2, and 4 that used to be on every Dr Pepper bottle. The label encouraged you to have three Dr Peppers a day at 10, 2, and 4 to keep you, well… peppy.

A poker purist will not play Dr Pepper. But I like it. It is the only time I have had four a kind, legitimately.

W.F. Strong is a Fulbright Scholar and professor of Culture and Communication at the University of Texas Rio Grande Valley. At Public Radio 88 FM in Harlingen, Texas, he’s the resident expert on Texas literature, Texas legends, Blue Bell ice cream, Whataburger (with cheese) and mesquite smoked brisket.

Texas Standard: October 17, 2016

He calls it a big beautiful wall, running along the 2 thousand mile length of the US southern border. But could it really be built? We’ll explore. Plus thanks President Obama, but no thanks: we’ll hear why a federal inmate in Texas is turning down a white house commutation of his sentence. Also, naming rights, and some say wrongs. As a public school in Houston accepts a multimillion dollar grant and a new name: that of the donor. And a 25 million dollar homecoming for Texas Monthly: what the sale of an iconic magazine says about the state of the industry , and the state of Texas itself. All those stories and much more today on the Texas Standard:

I-35

Highways are supposed to let us get around local traffic, across town or to the next big city quickly. But anyone who has lived in Texas for more than a week knows that there’s one exception to the rule: Interstate 35. Locals who live along the highway itself avoid it on their daily commutes. Long-distance travelers will drive an extra two hours on backroads just to ensure they won’t have to use it. But sometimes you just have to, sometimes there’s no choice, sometimes you sigh and say, “Let’s try I-35.”

KUT Weekend – October 7, 2016

How Austin’s homeless are voting in this election. What a mock election at local schools tells us about the local electorate. Learning all about Barton Springs Pool. Those stories and more in this edition of KUT Weekend!

Subscribe at https://weekend.kut.org

Sure, Texas Is Big – But It Used to Be Even Bigger

Texans have a kind of proverb that goes like this:

“Driving across Texas isn’t a trip; it’s a damn career.”

Texas is big, no doubt about that. But it used to be a lot bigger – about a fourth bigger. When Texas joined the United States in 1845, Texas’ borders (and shape) were quite different.

The northern boundary of Texas in those days stretched all the way up into what is today southern Wyoming. It´s true. In those days, the northernmost town in Texas was not Dalhart, it was Rawlins. You think it’s a long way from Brownsville to Dalhart now – at 860 miles – try 1,400 miles to Rawlins. In 1845 a trip like that would have been measured in seasons, not days. We’ll leave in early spring and get there before winter sets in.

Texas used to have a panhandle for the panhandle. It stretched north of the present day border and passed through prime Colorado Rockies real estate (including Vail) into Wyoming. They called that the stovepipe because that is what it looked like – a long skinny stovepipe, snaking northward. You can still find vestiges of Texas up there in that part of Wyoming. For instance, there is a creek up there named Texas Creek.

Texas used to include what is today the panhandle of Oklahoma. That territory is comprised of three counties. One of them is still named Texas County. So some Oklahomans still live in Texas. Well, Texas County, anyway.

The southwestern tip of Kansas was claimed by Texas. Dodge City was in Texas. Glad to know that. “Gunsmoke” always seemed like a Texas series. We know that Marshal Matt Dillon was born in San Antonio. His father was a Texas Ranger. It’s all coming together.

New Mexico used to be about half its current size because Santa Fe and Taos and all the eastern part of the state was Texas. Texas was so big in 1845 that if you had put a hinge on the northernmost part and flipped it northward, Brownsville would have been in Northern Canada next to Hudson Bay. Don’t think those Brownsvillians would have liked trading the tropics for the tundra, but that would be the result.

If you had flipped Texas southward, the people of Rawlins would have been in Peru. The East-West boundaries would have been about the same as they are today. Still, flip Texas eastward and you will have the El Pasoans trading their margaritas for mint juleps in Georgia. Flip it westward and the Beaumantians will be hanging ten with California surfer dudes.

So what happened to all our land? The U.S. government bought it in 1850. For $10 million they bought our claims to our Wyoming, Colorado, New Mexico, Kansas, and Oklahoma – it came to 6.7 cents an acre. Seems like we sold out cheap, but we desperately needed the money then. And remember that $10 million in 1850 is $300 million in today’s dollars, which is almost enough to buy a nice vacation home in Vail.

But, as I said, we really needed the money. We had a state to build and the only true assets we had in those days were land – and a tough, hardened people made of unbreakable spirits. So we sold the land and paid off debts and got a much more appealing shape to the state, a shape that fits nicely on t-shirts.

So even though we sold off our lands, we are nonetheless no slouch of a state, especially when we drive it. We still measure distance in time. We still feel like we are crossing an enormous frontier when driving I-10 through West Texas or I-69 to the southern border. And this old Texas saying is still valid:

“The sun has riz; the sun has set; and here I is in Texas yet.”

W.F. Strong is a Fulbright Scholar and professor of Culture and Communication at the University of Texas Rio Grande Valley. At Public Radio 88 FM in Harlingen, Texas, he’s the resident expert on Texas literature, Texas legends, Blue Bell ice cream, Whataburger (with cheese) and mesquite smoked brisket.

Texas Standard: September 26, 2016

With a key moment in American politics hours away- why what voters see in the debate might not be what the press sees. The story today on the Texas Standard.

After refusing to endorse the Republican nominee at the convention Ted Cruz jumps on to the Trump train. But does Cruz think Trump’s fit to be president? That’s another question. We’ll hear how he answered it.

Also, we’ve heard about drowning in student debt, what does that mean in real life? A case study from North Texas…

And Rhett Miller of the Old 97’s offers a humble alternative to the Texas state song. Lawmakers are you listening? All those stories and much more.

KUT Weekend – September 23, 2016

Texas could pull out of the federal refugee resettlement program. More Africans are immigrating to Austin. How did Austin become known as the Live Music Capitol of the World? Those stories and more in this edition of KUT Weekend!

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The Real Texan Who Inspired Captain Woodrow F. Call

In the mini-series Lonesome Dove, Charles Goodnight was immortalized loosely as Captain Woodrow F. Call, played by Tommy Lee Jones. In truth, Charles Goodnight in real life was even more fascinating than the fictional Woodrow Call.

Goodnight, who is the most famous rancher in Texas history, and the most ubiquitous Texan of his time, became a Texas Ranger at the age of 21. They recruited him because he was already locally famous in North Texas as a skilled Indian scout and tracker. The year was 1857 and the Texas Rangers and the U.S. Army were the front line of defense against Native American raids into Central Texas.

Goodnight tells of how the Texas Rangers one day got an inexperienced commander from back East. This commander had never fought Native Americans. He had never been out on the great plains. Yet he was all puffed up with self-importance and wanted to charge out and take on some Comanches. So he ordered the Rangers westward and after a couple of days, he spotted his first Indians on a distant hill.

Excited, he called Goodnight over and asked him, “What kind of Indians are those?” Goodnight paused and said, “Antelope.” The rookie Commander thought Goodnight was lying to him and ordered the Rangers to charge the group. Goodnight said, “We charged, laughing all the way, and successfully routed those antelope without losing a man.”

Goodnight was always fascinated by the shields the Native Americans carried to stop arrows and bullets. He had always heard that the shields had reams of paper stuffed inside to make them bullet resistant.

One day he shot at an Indian retreating into the brush. His target escaped but dropped his shield. Goodnight took it back to the camp and pried open the buffalo skin cover and wood frame and was shocked to discover an entire book inside. The book was The History of the Roman Empire. It solved the mystery as to why raiding Comanche so often took Bibles. They wanted the paper to bulletproof their shields, or, more accurately, to make them bullet-resistant. (They should have looked for Moby Dick. I always found that novel impenetrable. Don’t know what it would do against bullets, but it makes a hell of a door stopper.)

Charles Goodnight was indeed a genuine Texas Ranger, but he was also a genuine business entrepreneur. Had he lived a century later he might well have been someone like Michael Dell or Mark Cuban.

His biographer, J. Evetts Haley, said that Goodnight and his partner Oliver Loving were the first to drive cattle from Texas to Colorado. But before he started on this venture, everyone told Goodnight it couldn’t be done. They told him he couldn’t get cattle across the desert-like conditions of West Texas. They told him he would be brutally killed by Apache or Comanches, staked out naked on an ant bed to wait for vultures to pick his bones.

They told him that even if he did make it, the cattle would be mere skeletons by then and he’d have nothing to sell. Like all trailblazers, he simply ignored the naysayers. He ignored those who were always around to predict failure.

He proved them wrong and got rich doing so. He was only 30 years old at the time. Many Texans followed his lead and the trail became famous as the Goodnight-Loving Trail. Loving, by the way, was loosely depicted as Gus McCrae in Lonesome Dove.

Though Goodnight eventually owned the biggest ranch in Texas, well over a million acres, when he was in his 90s, J. Evetts Haley, Goodnight’s foremost biographer, reported that he had this to say about his tumultuous life:

“All in all, my years on the cattle trail were the happiest I have lived. There were many hardships and dangers, of course, that called on all a man had of endurance and bravery; but when all went well there was no other life so pleasant. Most of the time we were solitary adventurers in a great land as fresh and new as a spring morning, and we were free and full of the zest of those who dared.”

W.F. Strong is a Fulbright Scholar and professor of Culture and Communication at the University of Texas Rio Grande Valley. At Public Radio 88 FM in Harlingen, Texas, he’s the resident expert on Texas literature, Texas legends, Blue Bell ice cream, Whataburger (with cheese) and mesquite smoked brisket.

Texas Standard: September 20, 2016

First there was the arrest. Then the jailhouse death. Global outrage over the incident. Now comes the Sandra Bland Act. What it could mean, today on the Texas Standard.

As the nation focuses its attention on threats from abroad, law enforcement launches a multipronged crackdown on a made in Texas terror group with entirely different goals. And one of the leaders talks to NPR’s John Burnett. We’ll hear the backstory.
Also, the controversy over fracking moves offshore as environmentalists spar with industry over what’s happening in the Gulf of Mexico.

And Texas athletes taking a knee for Kapernick: how the NFL player’s protest is spreading among highschoolers.

Texas Standard: September 19, 2016

After nixing the Obama administration’s transgender bathroom directive, the battleground shifts to doctors and hospitals. Today on the Texas Standard.

Car 54 where are you? Perhaps by the side of the road. Why Houston police crusiers are struggling to stay in the fight.

But what happens when the road itself stalls out? The story of a big gamble on a superfast superhighway, and why it hasn’t paid off as promised.

Also, some say it’s the devil in disguise, as telemarketing in Texas embraces the “pay for pray” model.

Plus, tomorrow’s news today. Our waltz across Texas for the top stories for the week ahead.

Texas Standard: September 16, 2016

A temporary ceasefire… it sounds like good news for Syria… but not everyone’s happy with the deal. We’ll explain on today’s Texas Standard.

How much do we really need to know about the health of the people running for the nation’s highest office? And how much do they have to tell us?

A start up before there were start ups. A look at how one early computer company took Houston- and the world by storm.

Ok, we get it… Pluto isn’t a planet… but wait… some scientists say that it is? We’ll have the details.

And… it’s Friday on the Texas Standard… that means Typewriter Rodeo and wrapping up another eventful week in Texas politics.

KUT Weekend – September 9, 2016

People who live near 12th and Chicon turning the page on the intersection’s past reputation. A new poll shows Hillary Clinton ahead of Donald Trump in Texas. How a historically African-American church in East Austin is responding to the neighborhood’s demographic changes. Those stories and more in this edition of KUT Weekend!

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Homesick for Texas: Songs & Tributes to the Lone Star State

To my mind, the signature song about longing for Texas is this one:

I wanna go home with the Armadillo;
Good country music from Amarillo and Abilene;
The friendliest people and the prettiest women you’ve ever seen.

That’s “London Homesick Blues” sung by Jerry Jeff Walker and written by Gary P. Nunn.

But there are dozens of songs that make Texpatriates (Texans forced to live outside of Texas a
while) a little misty eyed. Like “Amarillo By Morning” by George Strait:

Amarillo by morning, up from San Antone.
Everything that I’ve got is just what I’ve got on.
When that sun is high in that Texas sky
I’ll be bucking it to county fair.
Amarillo by morning, Amarillo I’ll be there.

And what Texan isn’t moved by these immortal words?

Let’s go to Luckenbach Texas
With Waylon and Willie and the boys

The theme of Texas homesickness is a common theme in our music, our folklore, and our literature.

Did you ever hear the story about the Montana cowboy who died and went to heaven? St. Peter was giving him a tour when the Montanan looked up to see a bunch of cowboys in jail, struggling to get out. The Montanan said to St. Peter: “I’m a little surprised to see a jail in heaven!”

St. Peter said, “Oh that’s not a jail. That’s the Texas Detention Center.”

Montanan said, “Oh I understand. I did some drovin’ with those ole boys. When they get to a new town they can do some damage.”

“That’s not the problem,” said St. Peter. “The problem is they get so homesick they keep tryin’ to sneak out the Pearly Gates to go back to Texas. So we have to keep ‘em locked up a while till they learn to like it here.”

We find the theme in Larry McMurtry’s work, too. In his little masterpiece of a novel, “All My Friends Are Going To Be Strangers,” the central character, Danny Deck, is leaving Texas for the first time in his life. He is driving just west of El Paso and about to cross the border when he says:

“It was strange, leaving Texas… It was all behind me, north to south, not lying there exactly, but more like looming there over the car… some genie, some god, towering over the road. I really felt it… I had left without asking permission or earning my freedom. Texas let me go, ominously quiet. It hadn’t gone away. It was there behind me.”

When he returned to Texas after several months, Danny realized what many a traveler has realized – that there is no place like home. He says:

“It was the sky that was Texas, the sky that welcomed me back… The sky was what I had been missing, and seeing it again in its morning brightness made me realize suddenly why I hadn’t been myself for many months. It had such depth and such spaciousness and such incredible compass, it took so much in and circled one with such a tremendous generous space that it was impossible not to feel more intensely with it above you.”

Reminds me of what my brother Redneck Dave once told me. He said, “I reckon everybody everywhere misses their home, but if there was a way to measure the mightiness of missin’, I’d betcha big that Texans would come out pretty much on top.”

I can’t argue with that.

W.F. Strong is a Fulbright Scholar and professor of Culture and Communication at the University of Texas Rio Grande Valley. At Public Radio 88 FM in Harlingen, Texas, he’s the resident expert on Texas literature, Texas legends, Blue Bell ice cream, Whataburger (with cheese) and mesquite smoked brisket.

Waiting-For-Autumn Blues

While many Texans firmly believe seasons do not exist in our great state, we all look forward to the few weeks of cool weather in the fall. It’s the perfect time for cardigans, sweaters, and a cup of hot chocolate. The hard part is waiting for the blissful respite from the heat.

KUT Weekend – September 2, 2016

Texas doesn’t keep track of deaths very well, and it’s affecting public policy. Dual credit courses may equalize the path to college, but some people question the academic standards. The use of electric vehicles is growing in Austin. Those stories and more in this edition of KUT Weekend!

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Texas Standard: August 26, 2016

How much is too much? A Texas teacher’s note to parents sparks a national conversation over homework. We’re hittin’ the books today on the Texas Standard.

You’ve heard about the opioid problem nationwide, now hear this: the drug linked to the death of Prince is causing a crisis in Houston. We’ll learn why.

Also, is the bag ban in several Texas cities about to get sacked? A court case in Laredo may have set a statewide precedent.

And more than just Friday Night Lights: why the start of the season could rekindle a sense of community.