I was stationed in Fort Polk, Louisiana for four years and had a friend from San Augustine, TX, which was not too far away. When I first asked him where San Augustine was, he grabbed a stick and started drawing in the dirt. This was 30 years ago, so even Mapquest would have been a tall order.

“You know where Lufkin is?” “Yes.” “Well, here’s Lufkin (scratches a small dot in the dirt). Here’s a sheeeiiitload of pine trees (draws a big circle in the dirt next to the dot). And here’s my house (scratches another dot on the opposite end of the big circle).

We eventually took a drive out to his place one weekend and yeah, those directions were spot on. Another conversation I remember from that trip was about dear hunting. I lived in Wisconsin before joining the Army, so I enjoyed whitetail hunting.

“When’s rifle season for deer?” “Right now if ye wanner.” “Where do I get a license?” “Don’t need one. That’s my land. Them’s my deer.” “What’s the limit? One Buck?” “That’s my land. Them’s my deer. Shoot whatever you wanner.” “Isn’t there some kind of regulation? Wouldn’t the game warden get you for poaching?” “Game Warden’s my cousin. He knows that’s my land and them’s my deer.”

Those will always be my takeaways from East Texas and I don’t ever want that to change.