Welcome to small town livin’ in Dalhart, TX.
My inspiration for this post came while swerving along HWY
54 heading home one evening to miss pot holes in the road. Only people that
live in a town with cattle trucks, silage trucks, pumpkin trucks, milk trucks,
cheese trucks, and corn trucks on their roads would be able to get away with
the excuse when getting pulled over by a cop, “I was swerving to miss the pot
holes in the road officer.”
I moved back to Dalhart in February of this year. It had
been 17 years since I lived in Dalhart, TX. The population as noted on the city
limits sign is 7,930. Though some of the faces have changed the heart and
spirit has not.
If you were to have asked me 10 years ago if I’d ever live
in Dalhart, TX again, I wouldn’t have said no, I’d have said HELL NO! Oh…little
did I know what was in plan for me. I am more than happy to be back in this
town and community that helped shape me. When I left Dalhart/Amarillo and moved
to San Marcos, TX it was a feeling of being freed. What I needed to be freed
from I have no idea. Something that I looked forward to when leaving was the
new ability of being Shelly Lenz in places where no one knew, my mom, dad,
aunts, uncles, or grandparents. Funny story to go along with that, when I moved
to San Marcos my first job was at a little gift shop called Country Clutter at
the outlet mall. I was working the closing shift one night and a women comes to
shop, I greet her and then leave her to her shopping. She goes to check out and
writes a check with a Dumas address. I mentioned “I’m from that area,” and she
says, “are you Chuck and Donna’s daughter?” Insert LARGE eye roll here. Joke’s
on me, right? Throughout my 10 years of living down south when I walked into a
restaurant, went shopping or stopped to get coffee I never scanned the room to
see if I knew anyone. I walked in sat down and got on with business. Faces
changed like the weather. This has been an adjustment since being back in the
Panhandle. Before moving to Dalhart I lived in Amarillo and realized quickly
that I was going to have to be aware of the faces around me. People that have
known me or my family for many years were going to find me rude. Please know I
am not being rude, I am a work in progress. Also, please don’t be offended if I
have to ask your name my mental rolodex is dusty and I’ve had to WD-40 it.
Although the names and faces don’t come to me as quickly as
they use to there are a few things you never forget. You don’t forget that when
turning left onto Denver off 7th street you need to stop half a
block away from the light so all the trucks turning right down slam into you.
Be prepared to wait for a train at least once in the course of your day. Never
go over the speed limit when traveling between Dalhart and Hartley and for the
love of everything that is holy, when turning into malfunction junction from
any direction, pay special attention as it’s called “malfunction junction” for
a reason.
I hear the talks of some folks how, “oh Dalhart is not how
it once was” and that’s true because nothing ever is. Seems recently I’ve heard
a lot about break-ins at local businesses, vandalism, and all around hoodlumism (I just made that word up) and unfortunately that is the world we live in today big or small. I always try
to find an upside and the best thing I can come up is we should catch all the
hoodlums and hang them by their toes. No? Okay…so the real upside…lead by
example. Too corny? I honestly don't know other than holding people accountable for their actions. I'd hate to see the businesses I enjoy have to put bars on the windows in order to keep criminals out. Maybe a message should be sent think Home Alone style?? Iron to the face or torch to the head. Those criminals survived. Clearly, these are not good ideas, but people work too hard to be stolen from.
I’ve said this once and as my birthday is what prompted the
blog, I’ll keep with that theme, but I normally do not feel my age until I look
back on this little city I love dearly. Then I feel 35. Why? I can’t eat Allsup’s
burritos like I use to. Jarret and I call Shopko “the store formally known as
ALCO.” I’d be bored to death driving main. I’m still a bit bummed about no
movie theater (although very happy that building has found its use and is not
sitting vacant like so many). The softball fields off HWY 54 are nice, but
something about the old one by the cemetery had a SandLot kind of feel to it. The arcade in Pizza Hut. Hardee’s on
the corner of 87 and 54. The 10 foot deep end at the pool. Do you feel old now too?
The smallness of Dalhart allows the waitress to already know
what I want to drink and that I take creamer with my coffee and getting a hug
along with a hello when you run into someone at United. I truly believe life is
what you make it. This is in all aspects. Love, job, family, and community. You
get what you give. Give your community a little attention and you may get some
back. I’ve dipped my toes in giving of my community and am excited
to see what it gives back. Things I am looking for? Friendship, feeling of
accomplishment, fun, and more of that small town feel.
Our little of the corner of Texas is just that, little and I
love it. I hope you do too.
-Have a happy day friends.
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