There is no way to put it delicately: One day, Brittany Pollard found out that she–a distant relative–had once been a he. And for many reasons, it was one revelation too many. Pollard, fresh out of a psychiatric hospital after suffering a nervous breakdown at 13, had learned that the…
David Hale Smith had a good story, but no one wanted to hear it. The Dallas-based literary agent was telling publishers in fall 2001 that the fading-star tale of Houston’s Enron Corp. would ultimately produce a good book. No one bit. “The book editors in New York would say things…
There’s an old maxim in the reporting business that states, “If your grandmother says she loves you, check it out.” This rule was tattooed on Buzz’s soul by our college newspaper adviser, a cranky old nicotine-stained newsman who, rumor had it, would hurl typewriters at student reporters who got sloppy…
The Real Ron KirkRacist and sexist: I’m writing to clarify a couple of points in an otherwise extremely good article about Ron Kirk (“Ron Kirk’s Crying Game,” March 14) and the way he bullies his way into getting whatever he wants by “playing the race card,” in which I am…
From our two or three forced visits to Sunday school, Buzz knows that if you do something good for the poor, you’re not supposed to “sound a trumpet before thee, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets.” Of course, that doesn’t mean we can’t brag about…
From the counter at Mingus’ only bank, the teller could see a tall skinny guy in baggy clothes, hat turned backward, eyes sunken in. His buddy looked just as scruffy, and they were banging on the glass door. “Hey! Let us in! Hey!” they hollered. The teller reached for the…
The first was Patrick Timothy Richardson. On a September Sunday in 1999 on Colgate Avenue in University Park, the 39-year-old accountant suddenly vaulted over the sofa in his den and wildly assaulted his wife of 13 years. The Richardsons’ three young children gaped in horror as he slammed a lamp…
What’s it like to end up in prison as a teen-ager? Edwin Debrow Jr., Bill Everett and Brittany Pollard all committed violent crimes that found them on the wrong side of Texas’ get-tough juvenile justice laws. They tell their stories here for the first time–how they got in trouble, how…
The Real “Goofball”God help us: Christine Biederman, you ass hole, prick bitch!! I just read this past March 7-14 Observer!! You M.K. whore what right have you to make an unnecessary quote in your article on and about Mr. Ron Kirk (“Selling Ron,” March 7) our city of Dallas TX…
The winter darkness was fast approaching, normally the signal to Dallas’ street people to begin seeking safety and shelter. Their retreat would have to wait, though, as people like Sundance and Sweetie Pie, Big Chief and Lonnie began to gather with a hundred or so others in a parking lot…
The German shepherd’s fur bristled. Sniffing the air, his nose twitched and his black body stiffened. From ears to tail the dog froze, silently alerting the platoon to the approaching enemy. Armed with a superhuman sense of smell, the dog sensed strangers 1,000 yards away. Any chance of being ambushed…
Phil Romano may be the Steven Spielberg of the restaurant industry, but he’s more than just a crafter of little entertainments made on budgets bigger than those for the Pentagon’s toilet seat allotment. Phil Romano is a showman in the vein of P.T. Barnum; or better, Walt Disney. Like Walt,…
Last week, Buzz was surprised to find an acknowledgement in The Dallas Morning News of a fact the paper has seemingly long ignored: Food can be sensual. The paper, which engages in honest discussions of mature sexuality as often as it examines the Trinity River plan, surprised us in a…
Pass the PablumLame columnists: From what I’ve read and watched, I think a lot of columnists are afraid they won’t be invited to the caviar and truffle parties if they are outspoken or critical. At the same time, they’ve lost touch with the Limburger and onion crowd. One reason I…
The spotless white Lincoln Navigator with “Bail Me” license plates and custom chrome wheels shines like a comet in the rough constellation of Korean grocers, car-repair garages and tiny, burglar-barred houses that make up the neighborhood around the corner of Beckley and Saner streets. It is parked in front of…
ALPINE–Out in the heart of the sand-blown Trans-Pecos region of Texas where, as an ancient cowboy poet once wrote, “the rainbows wait for rain,” things literary generally take a backseat to the dreary essentials of survival. There’s just not much time for leisure reading when a well needs digging, fences…
For what was billed as the site of a major guns-a-blazin’ showdown, the setting was bizarre. The lights were dimmed, the doors locked. For weeks, lawyers had been expected to converge in U.S. District Judge Ortrie Smith’s courtroom, ready to duke it out over a controversial settlement that Plano-based Rent-A-Center…
The e-mails say it all. Rick Casey, metro columnist for the San Antonio Express-News, apologizes for not responding more quickly to an interview request but says he’s been very busy. “I’m covering a trial of a cop accused of selling drugs,” he writes. Steve Blow, longtime metro columnist for The…
Kirk’s RaceCampaign grind: Christine Biederman’s profile of Ron Kirk (“Selling Ron,” March 7) is one of the finest pieces on politics and the daily grind of campaigning that I have read in some time. I attended the AFL-CIO convention, and she got it right on the mark. An excellent job…
First it was her identity; now it’s her status as a victim that has been stolen. In December 2000 we told you how thieves stole Ronnie Wilson’s wallet, which she accidentally left at a Tom Thumb store, then used her identification to rack up some $10,000 worth of goods–everything from…
Ron Kirk insists he is neither optimist nor pessimist, cynic nor Pollyanna. “I’m a realist,” he explains during a quiet break from campaigning in deep East Texas. “I’ve had to deal with life as it is.” Because he’s a realist, he recognizes some harsh truths. Kirk knows, for example, that…
The thin, attractive blonde stood up before a room of Rent-A-Center’s top execs–the only woman in a sea of white shirts, dark suits and ties–and began delivering her report on the company’s tax situation. She didn’t get far. Before Leigh had completed two sentences, Ernie Talley, crimson-faced and ready to…
