Tag Archives: Texas Panhandle

Lake Meredith returning to glory?

What’s with some of this open speculation about the possibility of pumping water out of Lake Meredith, just north of Amarillo?

Don’t even think about it.

http://www.myhighplains.com/story/d/story/-/6Nfc49XbsEGTy7nFlICU3A

The Canadian River Municipal Water Authority, which used to pump water from the once-full lake, says it’s risen several feet because of recent rain that’s drenched the Texas Panhandle. Why, it’s up to 36 feet, about 10 feet higher than when it hit its lowest point.

Yeah, that’s a big deal. It’s not such a big deal, though, to signal a return to pumping water from the lake to cities up and down West Texas.

The drought that remains — yes, we’re still in a drought around here — has reduced the quality of the water. Pumping it would require expensive treatment to make the water fully potable.

Besides, let’s remember also that Lake Meredith — even in its replenished state — is still far below its historic high and is unlikely to return to that level any time soon, if ever.

The recent rain has been welcome and well could signal a dramatic turn for the better in our weather pattern. Then again, it might not mean anything at all.

Do we pump water once again from Lake Meredith? Perish the thought.

Fourth night, more rain

For as much I used to bitch about the weather while growing up in rainy, damp, dank, dark, Portland, Ore., I’m really loving this rainy, damp, dank, dark weather here on the High Plains of the Texas Panhandle.

You see, this is not normal here.

Normal weather bores me to tears. I got bored and disgusted with all that rain back in my hometown. In my current hometown, Amarillo, I’ve grown bored and disgusted with the incessant, relentless sunshine.

Oh, have I mentioned the wind that blows constantly around here?

It’ll take some time for me to grow bored with this moisture. Heaven knows we’ve all prayed our brains out for it to arrive.

I’ve heard some good news about Lake Meredith, about how the Canadian River is actually flowing and that it’s dumping water into the lake. I see the playas — particularly McDonald Lake up the street from our home — filling with water almost to overflowing.

How can I complain about that? Given the drought we’ve had for seemingly forever, you won’t hear a discouraging word from me.

It’ll take some time for me to become bored with this rain.

Keep it coming.

Why don't storm drains work?

This one creates a serious head-scratcher for me.

It’s been raining in Amarillo the past couple of days, with more steady rainfall expected through the weekend. The rain hasn’t exactly been in torrents, although it has rained harder in some locations than in others. Don’t get me wrong: I am among the many thousands of Texas Panhandle residents happy to see the moisture finally arrive.

However, what’s the story with the storm drains backing up?

I heard a city engineer say something today about “silt build-up” restricting the flow of rainwater into the storm drains. City officials were cautioning motorists to stay away from underpasses along Interstate 40 because of high water.

Good grief. We haven’t had any substantial rainfall since, oh, perhaps The Flood. At least it seems to have been that long. Where did the build-up of crud come from? Doesn’t the city monitor these drains to ensure that when the rain does arrive, that they’ll move the water efficiently to prevent large volumes of standing water that strands motorists — and puts them in jeopardy?

I saw social media pictures today of vehicles stalled out because of standing water. We have the usual suspect sites with which we have to contend. Fortunately, my wife and I have been able to avoid the trouble areas.

But they’re the same places that create havoc every time.

What in the world is up with that?

Rain becomes talking point

We’ve been mired here along the Texas Panhandle Caprock in this hideous drought.

Dry land farmers can’t grow crops, given that they depend on rainfall to irrigate their land.

It’s been tough around here for, oh, about four years.

So, when the weather forecasters keep harping on the prospects for rain, well, we want to believe them. Heaven knows they keep saying it’ll change, that moisture will return eventually. We want to believe them, but the longer we went without any relief, the harder it has become to put faith in their words.

That has changed in the past day or two.

Wednesday produced the first actual thunderstorm I can remember in a good while in our Amarillo neighborhood. More of it came today. The rain gauge hasn’t moved much yet, but it’s gotten pretty wet out there.

I ran some errands today, visited with folks and overheard others talking about, that’s right, the rain. Nothing else. No politics. I didn’t hear much about the VA scandal, or the upcoming Texas elections, or whether Hillary Clinton will run for president in two years.

Rain. That was the topic.

I ventured out this morning and so help me I thought the birds were chattering with more gusto than I’ve heard them for as long as I can remember.

Do we want the kind of rain that has flooded other parts of the state or the country? No thanks, of course. But some more of this moisture surely gives us something more pleasant to discuss with our friends and neighbors than what we’re getting out of Austin or Washington.

Fire season off to early start

Summer officially is about six weeks away and already fire season is upon us in the Texas Panhandle.

Oh … my … goodness.

A wildfire in Hutchinson County has left hundreds of people homeless and destroyed about 100 homes. The wind is whipping furiously; the native grass is tinder dry; burn bans are in effect all across the Panhandle.

http://time.com/95703/wildfire-hundreds-homeless-texas/

Remember the Summer of 2011, when thousands of acres of land went up in flames? Remember the misery, the heartache, the death and destruction? We might be headed for another one of those episodes.

Most of this circumstance is beyond our control. We need two things to happen: the wind to stop blowing and for rain to come. Only the Almighty can make either event happen.

We can, however, control our own urges, such as tossing cigarette butts or stogies our the car window. We can stop outdoor grilling. We can ensure that we take every precaution possible to prevent a tragic outbreak of fire.

There also needs to be highly strict enforcement of these burn bans. Let’s leave it to counties to make double-darn sure residents are heeding the dire warnings about the fire hazards that exist all around us. And that means simply to play by the rules and not light fires in this hideous wind.

The Fritch fire well might serve as a warning to us all. It’s still mid-spring — when the region is supposed to be drenched in those unpredictable rainmaking thunderstorms. Many of us can hardly remember the last time we experienced any such “normal” weather event.

Instead, we’re enduring this stifling drought and the wind that comes with it.

If this is a harbinger of the usual fire season, we’d better get ready for a wild summer.

Oh, and let’s all keep praying for rain.

Wind velocity is relentless

This item came to me the other day from a longtime Amarillo friend.

Linda has lived in Amarillo all her life, she told me, adding that her mother grew up in southwest Kansas.

Neither of them, she told me, had seen it blow as it did on Tuesday, April 29. That event is sort of becoming our version of “Black Sunday,” which occurred during the — gulp! — Dust Bowl of the 1930s.

This is worth mentioning as we’re battling the wind and airborne dirt yet again today. It’s not as bad it was the other day, but my friend’s assessment of the severity of that wind-and-dirt event is still quite striking as we continue to pray for rain to end this merciless drought.

I should add that my friend’s mother is old enough to have some memory of the Dust Bowl. So, to learn that she believes the April 29 dirt storm was the worst she’d ever seen … well, that’s saying something.

OK, are we in the midst of Dust Bowl 2.0? Another friend, Richard, told us today at church that as bad as it has been — and as bad as that particular day had become — it was, after all, just a daylong event. This friend also is a lifelong Panhandle resident. He’s a man of the soil. Unlike me, a city slicker if there ever was one, Richard has worked the land on and off for most of his life.

Thus, I’ve heard two varying reports of the severity of what we’re enduring these days. One of them, from the latter friend, seeks to put this misery into some perspective. Yeah, it’s bad, he says, but think of having to go through these dirt storms for days, even weeks on end! That’s what occurred during the Dust Bowl and it’s a far cry — so far, I should stipulate — from what we’re going through today.

Whatever perspective you want to place around the Spring of 2014 weather, I’m still alarmed to hear others who’ve lived here a lot longer than we have say this is as bad as it’s ever been.

I’m more than ready for rain.

Dust is tough to mow

A word to the wise is in order as the Texas Panhandle recovers from this latest dirt/wind/mud-rain episode.

When you crank up the lawnmower, be sure you’re wearing some kind of mask.

I did precisely that — cranked up the mower — this morning and learned the lesson the hard way.

Every fourth pass I made with the mower across the lawn was downwind, meaning that the dirt that was embedded in the grass blew into my face. I should have known better than to try this chore without adequate protection.

I got the job done, then had to re-bathe to wash the dirt away.

All this is worth mentioning only to remind us all of how it used to be around here, many decades ago.

The Dust Bowl.

Its very name conjures up hideous memories among those old enough to recall when the sky filled with dirt from horizon to horizon. It blackened the sky. It blotted out the sun.

Those who didn’t flee to calmer locations, usually out west, stayed and fought their way through it. They were still standing when the dirt stopped flying. It took years for the weather to cycle its way back to something approaching “normal” around here. But it did.

When I think about that level of suffering, I don’t feel so bad about having to cope with a little dirt flying out of the grass as I cut it.

Still, a mask would have been nice.

Texas's next governor will …

Wendy Davis created quite a stir by visiting the Texas Panhandle this week.

Much of it was positive. Much of it was not. The Fort Worth state senator and Democratic nominee for governor ventured into some hostile territory just by setting foot in this heavily Republican region of a heavily Republican state.

Good for her.

Let’s look ahead to the next election. Just suppose …

Davis wins. Or just suppose Republican nominee Greg Abbott wins — as most observers think will happen.

The next Texas governor will be stripped almost immediately of the kind of power that Republican Rick Perry acquired during his umpteen years as the state’s top elected official.

It’s been said zillions of times over the years that the Texas governor is a relatively weak office. The real power rests with the lieutenant governor, as he/she presides over the state Senate. The governor’s power lies in his appointments. Given that Perry has been governor seemingly forever, he’s had ample opportunity to fill all key state boards and commissions with people friendly to his policies.

He’s also been successful at using the governor’s office as a bully pulpit. Has that always worked well for him? No. Consider his purported pro-secession language that energized the tea party faction within his party. Many of the rest of us were quite turned off by the careless talk.

The next governor will lose much of the aura that Perry acquired, for better or worse.

You can bet that Abbott will show up in the Panhandle — perhaps many times — before the election occurs. Davis’s next visit isn’t yet set.

My hope is that the gubernatorial candidates don’t fall victim to what I’ve noticed over many years watching and covering Texas politics from my perch on the top end of our vast state. It is that Republicans take us for granted, given our region’s bias in their favor, while Democrats have all but given up the fight for our votes.

Y’all come back.

Sen. Davis ventures into lion's den

Texas state Sen. Wendy Davis today is venturing into places where few Democrats dare to go.

She’s in the Texas Panhandle, the virtual birthplace of the modern Texas conservative political movement, the place that according to lore voted overwhelmingly for Barry Goldwater over Texan Lyndon Johnson in 1964. (In truth, only eight of 26 Panhandle counties voted for Sen. Goldwater, but I digress.)

Davis was in Dumas today to speak to the Panhandle Press Association and is set to appear at an Amarillo restaurant, Fernando’s, for another public appearance set for around 5 p.m.

This is a notable campaign stop for a key reason: It might demonstrate that the Democratic nominee for Texas governor is going to wage a 254-county campaign for the state’s top office, although I doubt she’ll actually show up in every one of the state’s counties; for that matter, I doubt Republican nominee Greg Abbott will, either.

I’m glad she’s here. I hope she returns. You can bet that Abbott will be here, although his own time might be spent better in more populated and perhaps less reliably Republican regions of the state.

As for Davis, the Fort Worth Democrat, she has a chance to woo potentially skeptical audiences here with a solid message centering on bolstering public education and seeking income equality for all Texans — which was the theme of her message today in Dumas. These are serious topics that require serious consideration by all Texans, not just those who are wedded to one political party or the other.

A friend of mine who attended the Dumas event is one of those reliable Republicans. He wanted to hear Davis’s message and he tells me he came away impressed by her demeanor, her seriousness and her ability to articulate her message clearly. He says he’s keeping an open mind during this campaign — although it would shock the daylights out of me if he actually votes for her this fall.

I’ve long been advocate for a strong two-party system in Texas. Back in the days when Democrats ran everything, they proved to be just as arrogant and unforgiving as Republicans have turned out to be once they claimed supremacy over every statewide political office. A vibrant two-party system means both parties need to stay accountable for their beliefs.

Davis’s hope, I am presuming perhaps at my own peril, is that her message will not fall on deaf ears in the part of Texas that helped lead the way for a Republican takeover of the state’s political apparatus. Will she carry the day this November in this part of the state? I strongly doubt it.

Davis at least can hope — at this stage of the still-developing campaign — to make the race competitive. If she can pique the interest of at least one Panhandle Republican who vows to keep an open mind, Davis is sure to find others who are equally interested in listening to what she plans to do if she’s elected governor.

It’s a long slog, senator. Hurry back, OK?

LBJ could play hardball with the best of ’em

Ezra Klein is too young to remember President Lyndon Johnson, which doesn’t diminish one bit the young man’s brilliance.

His recent in Bloomberg View compares LBJ’s legendary bullying with what’s being alleged against New Jersey Gov. Chris Christie, who’s still trying to put the “Bridgegate” hoo-ha behind him. Good luck with that, governor.

http://www.bloomberg.com/news/2014-01-22/pining-for-lbj-we-got-christie.html

Klein refers to Robert Caro’s biography of the 36th president:

“In the fourth volume of Caro’s biography, he tells the story of Margaret Mayer, a Dallas Times Herald reporter who was investigating the television station LBJ owned. Johnson had his aides call Mayer’s bosses and let slip that if Mayer kept investigating Johnson’s business, Johnson might sic the Federal Communications Commission on the Dallas Times Herald’s businesses — which included TV and radio stations. Mayer’s bosses got the message. Her investigation was quickly terminated.

“That, however, was an example of LBJ’s lighter touch. According to another story Caro recounts, Johnson had long been irritated by the coverage of Bascom Timmons, the Fort Worth Star-Telegram’s chief Washington correspondent. So he called the paper’s owner, Amon Carter Jr., and told him that it’d be a shame — just a shame — if the Fort Worth Army Depot ended up getting closed. Even worse, what if the Carswell Air Force Base were shuttered, too? Then there was the Trinity River Navigation Project, which would make the river navigable from its mouth in the Gulf of Mexico all the way to the Dallas-Fort Worth area. All these projects meant jobs, development, and, ultimately, readers and advertisers for the Fort Worth Star-Telegram.”

That should remind long-time Amarillo residents of a darker time in the Texas Panhandle, when the Pentagon closed the Amarillo Air Force Base reportedly in retaliation for the political support Republican presidential nominee Barry Goldwater showed in this part of the state in the 1964 presidential election. Legend has it that LBJ — who allegedly hated the Panhandle — just shut the base down in a fit of pique. His friends here — and he had a few of them — deny any such motivation.

Whatever the president’s motives, he acted decisively. Amarillo took a huge punch in the gut, but has survived and has flourished in the decades since.

Old Lyndon, though, knew how to play tough.