Sam Houston is a syndicated columnist and newspaper executive. He is also an author, actor, playwright and entertainment producer/promoter.
Something I rarely do is take time off from work. The past few weeks I could tell my tank was running out of gas, and I decided to “disappear” for about three days. Nothing was wrong; I simply needed some alone time where I could think through some issues, which had been weighing on me and set some goals for the next six months. I needed a change of scenery and an opportunity to recharge my batteries.
The first question was where I wanted to go. This was not a “get on the plane and go to Vegas” kind of trip. I wasn’t seeking time to go have fun or blow a bunch of money on the dice tables. I contemplated all sorts of destinations including traveling to where I grew up, but it was simply too far away. I did not want to be sitting in the car for 10 hours a day for two of the three days. Such a long trip would sort of defeat the whole purpose of trying to refresh.
After careful consideration, I chose to go to Oklahoma City. It was the first place I lived when I graduated college and where I moved into my first apartment. It was my home base when I worked in the oilfield during the day and went to post graduate school at night. Once I moved away, I still regularly visited to conduct business. I have fond memories of the time spent in Okla City - it is relatively close by, and it seemed like a good place to go.
My taste buds have a keen memory, and there were restaurants in Oklahoma that I longed to revisit such as Chileno’s Mexican, Cattleman’s Steakhouse, and JW’s Onion Hamburgers. I also wanted to spend some time reminiscing and stopping by some of my old haunts. Not sure anything conjures up memories and emotions like going to see places which were once important to you.
During my drive to get there, I crossed over the Arbuckle Mountains and revisited the open prairie of the Sooner state. I began reflecting on the first time I drove into Okla City. That would have been 1978, and the oil boom was in full force. The economy was hot, and the city was growing but it was not sure of how it wanted to grow, or in what direction. Good paying jobs were plentiful, and the average working man was doing well. It was a time of prosperity. Over the next 40 years, I was in Oklahoma City at least once a year. On this trip, I came to realize I had not been there but once in the last four years and maybe only twice in six or seven years. Sadly, when I arrived last week, things really seemed to have changed and not for the better.
The clean, cute neighborhood where I rented my first apartment for the enormous price of $175 a month (fully furnished) did not look the same. It had been surrounded by well-kept working-class homes. The yards were maintained, the houses were painted, and people waved to one another. Now, there were weeds in the cracks of the sidewalk, the yards were unkept, and the neighborhood seemed to be overtaken by quick loan shops, tattoo parlors, vape shops, and tire repair places.
I did go to some of my old favorite restaurants, and the food was pretty good - maybe not as good as I remembered it - but good. I was sad to see Jimmy’s Egg on May Avenue gone. I had eaten a thousand breakfasts there over a lot of years, but now it was knocked down, and the only thing which remained was an empty lot.
I drove down to the Oklahoma City Bombing Memorial and remembered how years ago the many times I had been in and out of the Murrah building and the folks lost that fateful day. And I remembered being at the site two or three days after the bombing to get a “looksee.” There were hundreds of people on the sidewalk trying to get a glimpse of the damage, and each time a fireman or policeman walked by and crossed the barrier leaving the bombing site, people would spontaneously applaud and cheer. I might fault “Okies’ for a lot of things, but I will flat out tell you they showed me a lot of class that day.
The trip did not last as long as I planned. I left a day early and headed home. It was good to cross that old Red River and know I was back in God’s country. I was back to the place where I had lived the bulk of my life and made my home. When I had left a few days before, I thought I needed a change of scenery to get my thoughts together. What I learned is that memories are precious, but the world never stands still, and things seldom stay the way you remember them. The trip also confirmed there is no place like home.
Thought for the day: Going home is what everybody is trying to do from the day they are born to the day they die.
Until next time…I will keep ridin’ the storm out.