January, 2018

I had (took) an opportunity to wander around the Texas Hill Country for a day. Playing hooky from a conference in Houston, I hopped in my rental car early Tuesday morning, heading west on a backroad (Farm Road 1093) toward Shiner, Texas. My plans were to find ill-traveled roads, small towns, and eventually, the Spoetzl Brewery in Shiner.

My first stop was a filling station outside of Fulshear. I didn’t need gas. I needed coffee. The small cup of coffee I filled at my hotel didn’t last long and I was in need of more go-juice for the road. I knew that I would not find a specialty coffee out in the rural area of East Texas. No Starbucks or Caribou brewed lattes. What I did find was the coffee that I grew up on – cooked (almost charred) coffee, served up in a tall Styrofoam cup. Hi-grade caffeine, like the stuff I drank years before while in the Air Force. No additives needed.

I entered the small store attached to the filling station, expecting to be greeted by a smiling Texan, saying “Howdy. Welcome to Fulshear. What would y’all like today?” or something like that. Maybe a middle-aged woman – probably a nice Baptist woman, happy to be living in rural Texas. Or perhaps an older gentleman, wearing a large Stetson hat, talking about land and horses and oil. Instead, I was greeted by an Indian. From India. Listening to a radio station in Hindi. He smiled and welcomed me, and had nice words for me as I paid for my 40 ounces of black coffee.

Later that morning, I was passing through Weimar, a small town on Alt-90. I wasn’t particularly hungry but as I drove past K and B Donuts, the thought of a good jelly donut or maybe a bear claw made me make a U-turn past the water park and go in for a donut. Weimar is an old town, founded by German immigrants in the early 1870s. Entering the shop, I again was expecting a greeting in a loud, Texas drawl. Instead, the shop owner was a middle-aged man from Vietnam. Small in stature, he was behind the donut counter, wearing a white shirt covered with various baking ingredients and a Santa Claus hat.

I ordered a couple of bacon and egg tacos and bought a bottle of chocolate milk. I sat in the shop and ate one of the tacos and started a conversation with the store owner. I told him I liked his hat. He explained that it was cold earlier in the morning and that he liked the way the hat fit and felt. We talked about the weather, donuts, and Texas Hill Country. As I was leaving, he smiled and wished that I would have a good day wandering.

That evening, the State of the Union speech occurred. I didn’t watch it (still wandering) but heard much of its contents later that night. It contained so many negative aspects of immigration. Our country doesn’t need immigrants. They aren’t welcome. They should stay where they are. Etc. And I couldn’t help but think of the Indian man in Fulshear and the Vietnamese man in Weimar. And my mother, who emigrated from Germany. And my father’s ancestors, who emigrated from Ireland. All immigrants. And all living or lived productive lives here. To me, they are Americans. They are America.