This column is about Texas. ADVERTISING This column is about Texas. Larger than life, sprawling, Davy Crockett swingin’ Ole Betsy at the Alamo, Texas. True grit, Longhorns, biggest state that ever was, Texas! Where everything’s bigger, Cadillacs, 10-gallon hats, the
This column is about Texas.
Larger than life, sprawling, Davy Crockett swingin’ Ole Betsy at the Alamo, Texas.
True grit, Longhorns, biggest state that ever was, Texas! Where everything’s bigger, Cadillacs, 10-gallon hats, the King Ranch. Land of Blooming Blue Bells.
I was born there, my dad was born there, his dad before him, born deep in the heart of Texas. Once a Texan, always a Texan.
Texans say that Alaska is one big ice cube, melt it down and they put it in their drink, and Hawaii they could put in their shirt pocket. All in fun.
The Lone Star State and our 50th state have one thing in common, how you treat people, they call it hospitality, we call it aloha.
It’s sharing with a smile, giving with no expectations, inviting people to dinner and when they leave saying “y’all come back now,” and in Hawaii,“see ya nex’ time.” It’s going out of your way to help, that’s aloha.
Our big brother state needs a lot of that right now. Texas is drowning, flood waters are up to her neck, and she’s sputtering and reaching up for a helping hand.
Time to show that aloha is more than just a word for the tourists, time to prove it’s fo’ real.
We watch the news and see giant storm clouds swallowing up Houston. We see rivers of brown water up to the windshields of the cars, people floating down the streets in boats. We see the big news stories.
But there’s much we don’t see.
We don’t see 50,000 children, their minds trying to make sense of why the yards where they play, their rooms where they talk to their sisters, their whole worlds are all gone. They don’t know, they just look up at mom and dad and wonder.
We don’t see Uncle Ray and his wife hugging each other, staring at the house they lived in since the ‘50s, the place the kids grew up, gone, and no money to move anywhere.
We don’t see the shame of the proud Texan in a shelter thinking of his wonderful suburban home, all he had in his life, lost in the mud. He hides his tears, he’s a Texan.
When the camera turns off and the news crews go home, there is mom staring out hopelessly, holding her two kids.
There is a hundred miles of hurt in Houston. Time for some big time aloha. If you want to help here’s what you can do.
Get out the credit card and type in redcross.org and click on the red “donate now” button. There are pages of websites telling how to help Houston, please find one and give if you can. It might dry a tear or fill a stomach.
Let’s show them we really are the Aloha State.
