We Are From Brownwood
Here's a little unedited piece I've put together about my hometown. It could be many towns, it just so happens Brownwood, Texas is mine. We are having a little gathering of classes reunion, 1976 and older this Saturday and I wanted to put this out there now:
We Are From Brownwood
By Terry Beck
We are from Brownwood, Texas! It was not of our choosing, though I would have given my blessing, but our parents choice and in some cases our parents' parents choice. For the most part each generation was born in the same hospitals, delivered by the same few doctors and watched over by the same group of dedicated nurses. When we were born, we became another participating citizen of a smallish Texas town, not just a number on the population sign. Most everyone in town would know of you are at least your family name.
We would grow up drinking the same water, complaining about the same potholes, listening to the same two AM radio stations and calling the Mayor by his first name. We would recognize most every car and truck in town and know who drove them as we would "Make the drag". Though not built for that purpose, those in my generation chose "The Maid" (Dairy Maid) to be our home away from home and the starting, or ending, point of "The Drag". We would go into withdrawal on Sundays due to the fact Mr. Cole and his son Peewee would close "The Maid" to be with their family and sitting at the Dairy Queen just wasn't the same.
We learned of God and respected those denominations different from our own. We cried together the day we lost our President. We prayed as our brothers and sisters went to war and kept up with them in our one newspaper. We welcomed them home and tried to understand why their smiles were not as bright and their conversations where quieter than we remembered. They had left the same age as us but somehow came home older.
The gals in our town where a beautiful lot and the guys, well, the guys were pretty much just guys, except they knew how to play football and won more than they lost. Not everybody got along in Brownwood, but you would never guess by the spirit and support at ball games. Now back to the gals, you have never seen a more beautiful assortment of women than on Friday night at the football games decked out in their maroon and white corsages, some corsages just a little smaller than a parade float. Then, if you were fortunate, you would take your special gal to the Victory Dance, seems like we had a lot of those.
Most of our claims to fame were known by most all Brownwood folks, but sadly not all of our accolades made it outside the city limits. There was the fact we were the home to one of the winningest coaches in history, Gilligan and Maynard G. Krebs (Bob Denver) were raised in Brownwood, Paul and Paula loved in Brownwood, Brownwood is almost the geographical center of Texas, the shortest city block in the world resides in Brownwood, Bob Hope, Paul Harvey and General MacArthur have ties to each other in Brownwood and Terry Beck hit the first homerun of the 1961 Little League season. The list could go on and on.
Many of us learned to dance with our parents chaperoning us every weekend at the Community Center. Yes I loved Teen Timers, especially Ladies Choice songs, something slow like Blue Velvet. I can remember the looks on the chaperone's faces the first time "The Gator" broke out on the dance floor. I imagine my face was a little red too, I never had the guts to try that dance (or whatever it was). We danced in the old Armory, the new Armory, The Country Club, several different floors including the top floor in the Old Browntowner Hotel, The Flagship, the High School Cafeteria and The Starlight Club (after I discovered beer!)
We grew up in the shadows of Camp Bowie, home of a huge wartime military Camp complete with German POWs, great places to go parking, testing grounds for who had the hottest car in town, prime parking places, American Legion pool, Willis Creek, great parking spots, the Camp Bowie reservoir right across from the Feather Factory, and miles of concrete roads no longer used (Except for parking).
Yep, Brownwood is where we learned about the facts of life. We met our first love, learned the hardships of disappointment, made friends and thought we would always be and we were slapped by the realities of the darker sides of life. We said we would never change but we did, some for the better, some not. For many of us who thought we would never leave the warmth of our hometown, we occasionally travel back only to find a new kind of loneliness. Then, with a common goal, other Brownwood souls begin to gather and we laugh, hold each other and let the warm comfort of our common, young memories bring us back home if only for a while.
We Are From Brownwood
By Terry Beck
We are from Brownwood, Texas! It was not of our choosing, though I would have given my blessing, but our parents choice and in some cases our parents' parents choice. For the most part each generation was born in the same hospitals, delivered by the same few doctors and watched over by the same group of dedicated nurses. When we were born, we became another participating citizen of a smallish Texas town, not just a number on the population sign. Most everyone in town would know of you are at least your family name.
We would grow up drinking the same water, complaining about the same potholes, listening to the same two AM radio stations and calling the Mayor by his first name. We would recognize most every car and truck in town and know who drove them as we would "Make the drag". Though not built for that purpose, those in my generation chose "The Maid" (Dairy Maid) to be our home away from home and the starting, or ending, point of "The Drag". We would go into withdrawal on Sundays due to the fact Mr. Cole and his son Peewee would close "The Maid" to be with their family and sitting at the Dairy Queen just wasn't the same.
We learned of God and respected those denominations different from our own. We cried together the day we lost our President. We prayed as our brothers and sisters went to war and kept up with them in our one newspaper. We welcomed them home and tried to understand why their smiles were not as bright and their conversations where quieter than we remembered. They had left the same age as us but somehow came home older.
The gals in our town where a beautiful lot and the guys, well, the guys were pretty much just guys, except they knew how to play football and won more than they lost. Not everybody got along in Brownwood, but you would never guess by the spirit and support at ball games. Now back to the gals, you have never seen a more beautiful assortment of women than on Friday night at the football games decked out in their maroon and white corsages, some corsages just a little smaller than a parade float. Then, if you were fortunate, you would take your special gal to the Victory Dance, seems like we had a lot of those.
Most of our claims to fame were known by most all Brownwood folks, but sadly not all of our accolades made it outside the city limits. There was the fact we were the home to one of the winningest coaches in history, Gilligan and Maynard G. Krebs (Bob Denver) were raised in Brownwood, Paul and Paula loved in Brownwood, Brownwood is almost the geographical center of Texas, the shortest city block in the world resides in Brownwood, Bob Hope, Paul Harvey and General MacArthur have ties to each other in Brownwood and Terry Beck hit the first homerun of the 1961 Little League season. The list could go on and on.
Many of us learned to dance with our parents chaperoning us every weekend at the Community Center. Yes I loved Teen Timers, especially Ladies Choice songs, something slow like Blue Velvet. I can remember the looks on the chaperone's faces the first time "The Gator" broke out on the dance floor. I imagine my face was a little red too, I never had the guts to try that dance (or whatever it was). We danced in the old Armory, the new Armory, The Country Club, several different floors including the top floor in the Old Browntowner Hotel, The Flagship, the High School Cafeteria and The Starlight Club (after I discovered beer!)
We grew up in the shadows of Camp Bowie, home of a huge wartime military Camp complete with German POWs, great places to go parking, testing grounds for who had the hottest car in town, prime parking places, American Legion pool, Willis Creek, great parking spots, the Camp Bowie reservoir right across from the Feather Factory, and miles of concrete roads no longer used (Except for parking).
Yep, Brownwood is where we learned about the facts of life. We met our first love, learned the hardships of disappointment, made friends and thought we would always be and we were slapped by the realities of the darker sides of life. We said we would never change but we did, some for the better, some not. For many of us who thought we would never leave the warmth of our hometown, we occasionally travel back only to find a new kind of loneliness. Then, with a common goal, other Brownwood souls begin to gather and we laugh, hold each other and let the warm comfort of our common, young memories bring us back home if only for a while.
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