Essays from West of 98
Jerry Jeff Walker, Chili’s, and Childhood Memories
By James M. Decker
For some time, these weekly essays have promised a forthcoming “West of 98” podcast and website. Last year, I penned an essay detailing the story behind the name, but now, FINALLY, my website is live. Over the weekend, as I pondered when to launch this project, I thought to myself “well, Election Day is this week, you can’t launch it now.” But then I thought to myself, why not? After the misery of the 2020 election cycle, folks might enjoy reading something totally removed from politics.
Check out the new website at westof98.substack.com. Content is limited, but more is forthcoming. As previously promised, West of 98 will contain my weekly essays and additional community development and public policy talk alongside discussions of literature, movies, music, and food that are important to me. An essay on the Allsup’s burrito is imminent, but I chose to open with an essay about music and childhood memories. Enjoy it below, check out the website, and subscribe to the newsletter for a weekly email updates.
I learned about Jerry Jeff Walker in the booth of a Chili’s restaurant in Arlington, Texas. When Jerry Jeff passed away on October 23 at the age of 78, my mind immediately went back to that Chili’s.
When I was young, my family’s primary getaway destination was Arlington. These trips often included Texas Rangers baseball games. These were the Rangers of the old Arlington Stadium—the facility was barely Major League-caliber and the play on the field was often little better, but win or lose, to an elementary-aged baseball fan, it was great fun.
Before those games, my family usually found our way to the Chili’s on Interstate 30 right in front of the stadium. This was the Chili’s of the late 1980s and early 1990s, not the Chili’s of today. It wasn’t a worldwide chain, with thousands of locations in every suburb and international airport. This (I believe) was the third Chili’s location and there were only a few dozen scattered around Texas and neighboring states. The food and atmosphere were Peak Texas. The menu was mostly burgers, chips and queso, ribs, and chili. The walls were covered with imagery from a place called “Terlingua.” At my youthful age, I did not know much about Terlingua, but I was intrigued by its paraphernalia on the walls. It was in Far West Texas, near Big Bend. There was a chili cookoff billing itself as an international championship (I was curious who determined such a worldwide designations). It seemed a little bit cowboy and a little bit hippie. Willie Nelson was prominent in the imagery. I knew enough about music back then that I knew Willie was also a little bit cowboy and a little bit hippie.
There was also a guy named Jerry Jeff Walker in this imagery. I didn’t know as much about him, but I knew he was a singer. I knew Willie from his massive hits that were still played on top 40 country radio, but Jerry Jeff didn’t seem to have those hits. He seemed like a “cowboy cool” kind of guy, but I could tell his music wasn’t the country music that I saw on TNN and the early days of CMT.
That was my introduction to Jerry Jeff. As I got older and become more passionate about good music, realized just how cool he really was. Willie, Jerry Jeff, and a host of friends broke barriers with their sound. Some called it “outlaw country,” others called it “progressive country.” Whatever it was (and labels are overrated), it was magnificent. It combined traditional country and western sounds with rock, blues, and Spanish influence. It many ways, it was the musical embodiment of the melting pot that is Texas culture. They put Austin, Texas on the map as one of the world’s foremost live music center. It is no exaggeration that they contributed to making Austin and the surrounding Texas Hill Country one of the “cool” places to live, the economic impacts of which are still reverberating today.
I could give you my thoughts on some of Jerry Jeff’s most important songs, but they each deserve more words than I have remaining in this space. But for now, Jerry Jeff is gone, but his music and that sound that changed the very face of country music, will live forever. Whenever I hear it, I think back to my childhood trips to Arlington. Nolan Ryan was on the mound. Pudge Rodriguez was behind the plate. Bleacher seats at Arlington Stadium were cheap and full of entertainment for a kid with a bag of peanuts and a scorebook. But before the first pitch, there was a plate of baby back ribs at Chili’s, with the imagery of Terlingua on the walls and some pretty cool dudes named Willi and Jerry Jeff.
James Decker is the Mayor of Stamford, Texas and the creator of the “West of 98” website and forthcoming podcast. He may be contacted at westof98.substack.com.
Good read James. My son and I attended many Rangers baseball games and at at that Chili's more than once. One of my favorite memories of that stadium is when my son was chosen to go up in the booth and meet the announcers...the original ones. We were given seats just behind the Rangers dugout and it was special. Nolan Ryan was pitching. I don't remember who won. It was special. A couple of years later we were visiting my daughter and ran into him in a convenience store and he gave my son his autograph. Good memories.
I had a similar childhood. It was always 6 flags and a Ranger game.