A Small Town in Texas: Luling

When I moved back to Texas from the Northeast not too long ago, I was more than ready to fall into that good ole lone star state of mind and get down with the things that set Texans apart from the rest.

I’ve always found being back in Texas after time away to be a balm I didn't know I needed. It’s somehow soothing to adjust oneself to a slower pace and the wide open space. Of course, my roots are not in Texas, and my family has never been your average Texan family (what is an average Texas family anyway?). So even I, with my 15 odd years of living here, am still struck by the novelty of some of the Deep in the Heart of Texas things I come to encounter.

I was in San Antonio one weekend on my way home to Houston when I called a friend up to see if he wanted to meet me somewhere for lunch. Eyan lives in Austin and he has a great appreciation for the off-beat. So we agreed to meet in Luling, Texas population 5,458, a midpoint for the two of us.

Historically a railroad town, Luling was a far western stop of the Southern Pacific Railroad. The town was built in 1884 and was for several years called “the toughest town in Texas”. When I read that my mind flooded with images of a dusty saloon, outlaws with guns in their holsters and a sheriff asleep on the job.

The town eventually settled down to a sleepy community of 500, but in 1922 everything changed. Edgar B. Davis struck oil. This monumental event changed the course of the town’s history and led to the development of an oil field that by 1924 was producing 11 million barrels of oil a year. The population skyrocketed almost overnight from 500 to 5,000.

Today, as you approach the town, you can smell the oil from the nearby oil wells. There are a series of cutely decorated oil pump jacks around town. Luling’s Main Street is a series of restaurants and gift shops. Eyan and I were there on a Sunday so most of the shops were closed, but we did manage to get some darned good chicken fried steak, fried catfish, okra, hushpuppies and, of course, a nice cold bottle of Shiner Bock.

Bellies full, we went our separate ways and I found my way onto I-10 headed home. Now if that ain’t a trip into the real Texas, I don’t know what is.