Think ‘Dallas,’ and you’re apt to conjure up the NFL Cowboys, perhaps J.R. Ewing or—quite probably—the Kennedy assassination. When this reporter thinks of the place, he remembers his hometown.
John Kennedy died in my city. My parish priest, Oscar Huber, administered last rights. The kids I went to school with waved at the motorcade as it drove downtown. The killing shaped the public persona of the place as nothing else – until the TV show Dallas redefined it.
See the liar from which Oswald fired. Immerse yourself in the Sixth Floor Museum, once the Texas School Book Depository. It took years before I ventured to the place. The memories were too fresh, and I was afraid of tawdry commercialization of the death of a president. To my cynical surprise I found the museum tasteful, insightful, and invaluable to anyone who would understand JFK, his time, and his death.
Then there’s South Fork, a real ranch and, home to the mythic Ewing family, it’s emblematic of all that the world perceives Dallas to be – big, brash, powerful. See how the high and the mighty lived. Close your eyes and you can almost hear J.R. calling Sue Ellen to come on down for supper. South Fork offers tours.
After those iconic trips see the real Dallas, the places where people eat and hang out. For true Tex-Mex, few restaurants equal Mariano’s. Aside from the tableside guacamole, Mariano’s key claim to fame lies in being home to the world’s original frozen Margarita machine. The original machine is now in the Smithsonian, but they’ll still serve you the frozen concoction with a smile.
Take that smile and go see some ducks, decedents of the one’s I communed with as a kid. You’ll find them arrayed along immaculately-groomed Turtle Creek, in Highland Park. Stroll the paved pathways, shielded from the city noise. Decide for yourself which Dallas is real.
Story by Jerry Chandler
(Image: visitdallas)
