Blame it all on our (Texas) roots

Ben Barnes introduced me to politics.

He shook my shy teenage hand as he wished success for his alma mater in their football endeavors on a late Friday evening in the mid-'60s. The De Leon Bearcats lost the playoff game that night, but Barnes didn’t lose, not only in his political successes, but with his influence on me and many others in our community.

The young speaker of the house invited the Bearcat Band to lead his inaugural parade. The lady who led the parade, I would marry. A lifelong friend would be a page boy in the upcoming session.

The Vietnam War was raging, TET upcoming, but at least this politician gave us hope. And hope was what we needed as my fellow teenagers clerked in the stores, marched in the band, picked the peaches, hoed the peanut fields and played football while we waited for our draft number to be called after graduation.

For the guys it was dread, for the girls it was dread for the guys leaving. At least we knew Ben Barnes.

Fifty plus years later, I attended a friend’s funeral; he was of Barnes blood and laid to rest among many of the Barnes family. It was a gray December day and the pecan orchard just south of the cemetery shared the mood. Rooted deep down were these beautiful, yet leafless trees.

Down the road is the origin of the Barnes family in Comanche County. More than a dozen Barnes children were born to this little community, witnesses to the same of so many Texas families …heartaches of drought, pains of disease, and the return of a son in a box via train from Korea.

A grandson would contract polio and yet another grandson would be elected a state representative, later as the speaker of the house and lieutenant governor of Texas. Ben Barnes’ roots were as deep as the mighty pecans and the Barnes family still remains attached to this soil.

I thought of the native Texans who have represented us since the mid-'60s and after Ben Barnes:

Bill Hobby, Houston, Rice

Bob Bullock, Hillsboro, Texas Tech and Baylor

Rick Perry, Haskell, Texas A&M

Bill Ratliff, Sonora, University of Texas

David Dewurst, Houston, University of Arizona (Basketball scholarship)

Most all of these Texans served in the US military.

Dan Patrick born in Baltimore, Md., as Dannie Scott Goeb.

He has a BA from the University of Maryland, Baltimore County. And, along with a name change, he “reinvented” himself from being a sports and radio broadcaster. After a painful (for his creditors) bankruptcy, he became a “conservative commentator” in his new hometown of Houston, where voter apathy and tea party fervor was at its tempest.

He easily outpolled and defeated his first opponent who had a six-generation heritage in Texas. The new most powerful politician won by an easy margin. Sparse voter turnout should be an embarrassment for any native Texan. Our current history reveals that Dannie Scott Goeb, aka Dan Patrick, perhaps has had more influence on Texas politics than all of the previous lieutenant governors in my voting lifetime.

What happened to Texas and its pride? You were either Texan or you were not.

“Got to Texas as soon as I could” and “Go back to California!” were some of the slogans that were popular before and even during the time that this sports talk show host slipped in from the east to become the most powerful man in Texas.

Now, instead of addressing Texas problems such as teacher shortages, life changing property taxes, least uninsured children in the U.S., near bottom ranking end of all education standards, and, of course, ERCOT, our agenda has changed its focus. Now and in the past legislative sessions our new Texan has turned our focus to grade school bathrooms, people who vote feloniously via mail, women’s rights, and now we must stop any parent from dealing with a child born into this new Texas leadership that did not meet the leaders’ body-part inspection.

In the last primary, another influx of out-of-state politicians was evident. What more could the new Texans want? Have our roots started growing parallel instead of seeking permanent moisture?

As Garth Brooks sings, "Blame it all on my roots."

I grew up in boots and certainly didn’t have to buy a shiny pair on the way to Texas.

B.K. (Kent) Boswell lives in Comanche County.

This article originally appeared on Abilene Reporter-News: Blame it all on our (Texas) roots