If you will allow me a deviation from my tendency to avoid sentimentality.........
When people ask me where I'm from--originally--I truthfully answer "Dallas, Texas." However, the majority of my tender formative years were spent in the Texas Hill Country in a town that I couldn't wait to get out of. The recent flooding, and now the death of Lady Bird Johnson has brought back many memories. I was told that two of the fatalities from flooding were the parents of a boy I went to school with. I hadn't thought about him in many, many years. In many ways he and I were typical band geeks, although I was less reviled by the "popular" kids for some reason. In our town, if you were male, not particularly good-looking, and especially if you weren't athletic, you were at high risk of being labeled "fag" or "fairy." I don't know whatever happened to him--he graduated a year before me and got the hell outta Dodge. But hearing about his parents, and thinking about him brought back memories of why I hated small-town living.
However, I must confess that I have more pleasant memories when I think of Lady Bird Johnson. Whatever anyone would say about LBJ and his legacy as President, and whatever the reality is, I will forever associate Lady Bird Johnson with the things I love about Texas, and happier times growing up. The Johnson ranch was less than 20 miles from my town and very close by, if not actually part of the ranch that became a state park, was a large public swimming pool. My mother would pack my brother, sister and I in the Ford station wagon and go--often spending an entire afternoon. It was always blistering hot and there was a very intimidating diving board--off of which I experienced my first "belly-buster." I also remember hearing my grandmother talk about how "gracious" Lady Bird was, how she was a model of what was accepted as true Texas feminity--keep your chin up, your liptstick fresh and a scarf to keep your hairdo intact. All while standing by your man, and especially if you're watching your man take the Presidential oath of office while the recently widowed Jackie Kennedy stands nearby in shock in her blood-soaked pink suit. However, for many people like me, Lady Bird is most remembered for her love of flowers and her work to beautify Texas highways. I always associate the Bluebonnet and Indian Paintbrush with her and remember certain times of the year that you could drive and see fields and fields of these flowers. There is a famous photograph of Lady Bird, taken by Dennis Fagan, that makes me very sentimental for the Texas I prefer to remember. I'll not post it here, but will provide a link.
However, I must confess that I have more pleasant memories when I think of Lady Bird Johnson. Whatever anyone would say about LBJ and his legacy as President, and whatever the reality is, I will forever associate Lady Bird Johnson with the things I love about Texas, and happier times growing up. The Johnson ranch was less than 20 miles from my town and very close by, if not actually part of the ranch that became a state park, was a large public swimming pool. My mother would pack my brother, sister and I in the Ford station wagon and go--often spending an entire afternoon. It was always blistering hot and there was a very intimidating diving board--off of which I experienced my first "belly-buster." I also remember hearing my grandmother talk about how "gracious" Lady Bird was, how she was a model of what was accepted as true Texas feminity--keep your chin up, your liptstick fresh and a scarf to keep your hairdo intact. All while standing by your man, and especially if you're watching your man take the Presidential oath of office while the recently widowed Jackie Kennedy stands nearby in shock in her blood-soaked pink suit. However, for many people like me, Lady Bird is most remembered for her love of flowers and her work to beautify Texas highways. I always associate the Bluebonnet and Indian Paintbrush with her and remember certain times of the year that you could drive and see fields and fields of these flowers. There is a famous photograph of Lady Bird, taken by Dennis Fagan, that makes me very sentimental for the Texas I prefer to remember. I'll not post it here, but will provide a link.
When I heard she'd died, I suddenly craved the sound of my own grandm
other's voice.
other's voice. 
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