Welcome to Lindale

I’ve been asked about the little town of Lindale, where we now live, so I’ll give it a whirl.

I could tell you that the population is about 5,000, if you stretch it a tad, and that it’s located half-way between Dallas and Shreveport, LA. I could also tell you that it used to be the blackberry capital of the country, and for a while cotton was king, and then the soil gave out. I could boast that they filmed a Randolph Scott movie here in the late 40’s, and that football star Earl Campbell was raised nearby, and that our latest claim to fame is a young Country Western star by the name of Miranda Lambert. However, that wouldn’t tell you much that wouldn’t fit a hundred other small towns in this part of the country.

As you’d expect, it has a Lowes, a WalMart, and the usual fast food places along with 51 churches, and no bars. We’re in a dry county. The old section of town was built in the 1800’s, while the new part of town, the bigger part, is still under construction and growing rapidly.

You’d learn a lot about Lindale if you’d visit Pop’s Cafe, where a dozen of us get together every morning to reminisce and resolve the world’s problems. The air is awash with the enticing aroma of bacon,sausage and peppery, white gravy. The music is old country...George Jones...Buck Owens...Merle Haggard and Charlie Pride. Farmers, truck drivers and construction workers kill time before work, drinking coffee and seeing who can tell the tallest tale, and who can laugh the loudest. Two real cowboys…spurs and all…sit quietly at a side table, sopping gravy and over-easy eggs with buttermilk biscuits. They enjoy a pinch of smokeless tobacco while they down several refills of strong, hot, brew before leaving to saddle up in the chilly morning air.

The regulars are a diverse bunch, drawn together by common values and common goals, not government edict, or gnawing guilt. Old-timers…newcomers….the mayor… farmers…ranchers…retired military…a plumber…a lawyer…civil servants…engineers…salesmen…business owners and a retired college professor. Sometimes we’re joined by the banker, a local author, and occasionally, the newspaper editor stops in to take the pulse of the “city”. Wealthy…middle class…and just getting by. Not a stiff shirt in the bunch.

Yes, Lindale is a friendly little town, but that’s pretty much all of Texas. If you need help felling that old oak tree that died last summer, or to fix a mower, or to build a fence, there’s no shortage of offers to help. Need a special tool?...somebody has one to loan you. Need a ride somewhere?...no problem, you’ll have lots of offers.

Oh, sometimes I hear a gripe or two about all the Yankees settling here, but it’s done with a teasing smile, and a gracious invite to join in some community event. They don’t really mind us newcomers, as long as we accept things as they are, and don’t try to turn Texas into California or New Jersey. We’re guests for a while, but if we mind our manners, we quickly become family. When they refer to you as “a good ol’ boy”, you’ve passed the test.

That’s what it’s like in our small Texas town, and it sure beats living in the city.