Texan Edge

Tweed Scott

  The Texan Edge Texas has never been short on stories. Some belong to famous names. Others belong to people you've probably never heard of. Some changed Texas forever, while others simply tell us something about the people who lived here and the place Texas became. I'm Tweed Scott, and on The Texan Edge, I tell those stories. We'll wander through Texas history, meet remarkable people, uncover stories that have been overlooked, and occasionally stop for something that's just plain fun. But history isn't really the destination. It's the vehicle. Because somewhere inside these old Texas stories, there's usually something worth carrying with us—a little courage, ingenuity, determination, humor, or maybe just a different way of looking at the world. You don't have to be born in Texas to understand that. You just need a little Texas state of mind. The Texan Edge — not just a podcast, but a Texas state of mind. 

  1. 4d ago

    Did A President Name A Texas Town?

    Send us Fan Mail   Description Did Theodore Roosevelt really name Burkburnett, Texas? That story has been repeated for years—but the truth is a little more complicated. It involves legendary cattleman Samuel Burk Burnett, a presidential wolf hunt, a new railroad town, a problem with the U.S. Post Office, and apparently a little help from Teddy Roosevelt himself. The legend may not be quite true. The real story may be better.  Show Notes  For years, Burkburnett, Texas, has carried an unusual claim: that Theodore Roosevelt named the town, making it the only American community ever named by a sitting president. It's a terrific story. But is it true? In this episode of The Texan Edge, Tweed Scott follows the story back to Texas cattleman Samuel Burk Burnett, founder of the famous Four Sixes Ranch, and his friendship with President Theodore Roosevelt. Their relationship included a favor involving Burnett's cattle in Oklahoma Territory and a memorable 1905 wolf hunt. But the town of Burkburnett didn't exist yet. That came later, when a railroad created a new townsite on land Burnett had sold in Wichita County. Developers wanted to name the community for Burnett—but apparently ran into trouble getting the name approved by postal authorities. That's where Roosevelt seems to have entered the story. The surviving historical record doesn't allow us to reconstruct every detail with certainty, and the often-repeated claim that Roosevelt personally named the town goes too far. But historical accounts consistently indicate that Roosevelt helped get the proposed name past the Post Office Department. Sometimes a Texas legend doesn't disappear when you check the facts. Sometimes it just becomes a better story. The Texan Edge — Texas history isn't the destination. It's the vehicle.  This isn't just a podcast, it's a Texas state of mind.

  2. 6d ago

    Was Then "Come and Take It" Flag A Wedding Dress?

    Send us Fan Mail Description Was the famous Come and Take It flag really made from a young woman's wedding dress? It's one of the best-known stories surrounding the opening days of the Texas Revolution. According to tradition, Naomi DeWitt had been married only weeks before the confrontation at Gonzales, and her white silk wedding dress was cut up to create the famous flag. There's just one problem. An eyewitness remembered the flag being made of cotton. And that's not the only mystery. Historians disagree about who made the flag, when it was made, and even whether it actually flew during the Battle of Gonzales on October 2, 1835. The one thing that might settle the argument—the original flag—disappeared nearly two centuries ago. In this episode of The Texan Edge, Tweed Scott goes looking for the history behind one of Texas's most recognizable symbols and discovers a story with more questions than answers.  Show Notes One star. One cannon. Four words: COME AND TAKE IT. Nearly every Texan recognizes the flag. But how much do we really know about the original? The confrontation at Gonzales on October 2, 1835, marked the beginning of the armed Texas Revolution—the start of the 202 days we call the High Holy Days of Texas, stretching from Gonzales to the Battle of San Jacinto. But this episode isn't about retelling the battle. It's about the flag. A story passed down through generations says the white material used for the flag came from the wedding dress of Naomi DeWitt, who had married William Matthews only weeks earlier. It's a wonderful Texas story. But is it true? The Texas State Historical Association describes the wedding-dress account as apocryphal. Noah Smithwick, who was there during the revolutionary period, later remembered the famous flag as being made from white cotton cloth—not silk. Other questions remain. Historical accounts disagree about who actually made or painted the flag. And sources don't completely agree on whether the familiar Come and Take It flag flew during the October 2 battle or was created afterward and carried toward San Antonio. Normally, there would be a simple way to investigate at least some of those questions: examine the original. Unfortunately, the original Come and Take It flag disappeared. So nearly two centuries later, we're left with an eyewitness remembering cotton, a family tradition remembering a silk wedding dress, and one famous Texas flag that might have answered the question—if only we knew where it was. Was the Come and Take It flag really Naomi DeWitt's wedding dress? That's one Texas mystery you'll have to decide for yourself. The Texan Edge — not just a podcast, but a Texas state of mind.  This isn't just a podcast, it's a Texas state of mind.

  3. Sep 26

    Dana X Bible--The Coach Texas and Texas A&M Shared

    Send us Fan Mail   Description Texas Longhorns and Texas Aggies don't agree on much when it comes to football. But once upon a time, they shared the same remarkable head coach. Dana X. Bible built undefeated Texas A&M teams that went two entire seasons without allowing a single point. He helped create the circumstances behind A&M's legendary 12th Man tradition, won championships at Nebraska, and later took on the job of rebuilding the University of Texas football program. But Bible's story is about more than wins and championships. It's about preparation, discipline, persistence, and a belief that how you conducted yourself mattered just as much as the final score. On this Saturday edition of The Texan Edge, meet the man both sides of one of college football's greatest rivalries were proud to call Coach.    Show Notes There aren't many things the University of Texas and Texas A&M are willing to share—especially during football season. Dana X. Bible was one of them. Bible became Texas A&M's head football coach in 1917 at just 26 years old. His 1917 and 1919 Aggie teams produced one of the most extraordinary accomplishments in college football history: 18 victories, 545 points scored—and not a single point allowed. In this episode of The Texan Edge, we look beyond those remarkable numbers to the man who produced them. You'll hear about Bible's almost obsessive attention to preparation, his role in the story that became Texas A&M's famous 12th Man tradition, and the "Bible Plan" that helped athletes earn money to continue their education. We'll follow him from College Station to Nebraska, where he won six conference championships, and then back to Texas in 1937, when the University of Texas gave him the job of rebuilding the Longhorn football program. The rebuilding didn't happen overnight. Texas won only three games during Bible's first two seasons. But he stayed with the work, eventually leading the Longhorns to three Southwest Conference championships. By the end of his coaching career, Bible had won 14 conference championships. Yet one sportswriter suggested his greatest contribution wasn't found in the record book at all. It was the dignity he brought to football—the belief that you could compete hard, prepare relentlessly, and still conduct yourself like a gentleman. Maybe that's the real Dana X. Bible story. Greatness doesn't always come from one spectacular moment. Sometimes it comes from doing the little things correctly, over and over again, for a very long time. In this episode: Dana X. Bible's extraordinary years at Texas A&MTwo undefeated, unscored-upon Aggie seasonsE. King Gill and the birth of the 12th Man traditionBible's remarkable approach to scouting and preparationThe "Bible Plan" and his concern for players' educationSix conference championships at NebraskaHis controversial 1937 contract with the University of TexasRebuilding Longhorn footballThe character and dignity behind one of college football's great coaching careersThe Texan Edge — Not just a podcast, but a Texas state of mind.  This isn't just a podcast, it's a Texas state of mind.

  4. Sep 24

    Harriet Arnold: What DID Freedom Mean?

    Send us Fan Mail Description Harriet Arnold may have been born free in Texas. But years later, her father accepted $750 and indentured her to another man for five years. Why? Was he exploiting his own daughter? Was he trying to protect her from laws that made life increasingly difficult for free Black Texans? Or was something else happening entirely? The historical record doesn't tell us. In this episode of The Texan Edge, we follow Harriet through changing Texas laws, an indenture agreement, a cholera epidemic, a petition to the Texas Legislature and a court case whose file has disappeared. It's a story about what freedom actually meant in 19th-century Texas—and about knowing when history requires us to say three difficult words: We don't know.  Show Notes Harriet Arnold: What Did Freedom Mean? Harriet Arnold was born in Texas around 1827, when Texas was still part of Mexico. Her father was Hendrick Arnold, the free Black scout and guide whose service to the Texian cause we explored in our previous episode. But Harriet's story presents a different question. What did it actually mean to be free? By the time Harriet reached adulthood, Texas had gone from a Mexican territory to an independent republic and then to an American state. Along the way, the laws governing the lives of free Black Texans changed dramatically. Then, in 1846, Hendrick Arnold entered into an agreement with James Newcomb. Newcomb paid Hendrick $750, and nineteen-year-old Harriet was indentured to him for five years. The agreement stipulated that she was to be free when those five years ended. Why would her father agree to such an arrangement? That's where the historical record becomes frustrating. There are reasons such an agreement might have provided legal protection under the complicated racial laws of the period. There are also less charitable possibilities. We don't know Hendrick's intentions because he didn't leave us an explanation. And we don't know what Harriet thought because her voice isn't in the surviving record. Then cholera arrived. Both Hendrick Arnold and James Newcomb died in 1849, before Harriet's five-year term had ended. What followed included a petition to the Texas Legislature seeking permission for Harriet to remain in Texas as a free woman of color—and a court fight over her status. The case eventually reached the Texas Supreme Court. But the case file is missing. In this episode, we follow the evidence as far as it will take us. And when it stops, we stop too. Because sometimes telling history responsibly means resisting the temptation to provide the ending we wish we had. We may not know exactly what became of Harriet Arnold. But we can remember her name. Harriet Arnold was here. Texas was her home.  This isn't just a podcast, it's a Texas state of mind.

  5. Sep 22

    The Scout Texas Almost Forgot

    Send us Fan Mail   Description Hendrick Arnold helped Texas win its independence. Then the new Republic began passing laws that questioned whether a free Black man like him could remain in the country he had helped create. Arnold served the Texian cause as a scout and guide during the Siege of Béxar and the Texas Revolution, working alongside men whose names are far better remembered today. He earned land for his service, settled along the Medina River, and built a life in Texas. But his story didn't end with independence. In this episode of The Texan Edge, we meet a nearly forgotten Texian whose life forces us to look at both the achievements and contradictions of early Texas—and whose daughter Harriet will take us even deeper into that story next time.  Show Notes Hendrick Arnold: The Scout Texas Almost Forgot Before satellites, radios, aircraft, or drones, military intelligence sometimes depended on one man, a horse, and his ability to make it back alive. Hendrick Arnold was one of those men. A free Black man who came to Mexican Texas with his family in 1826, Arnold became a trusted scout and guide for the Texian forces during the Texas Revolution. He served during the Siege of Béxar, worked alongside famed scout Erastus "Deaf" Smith, and took part in the struggle that eventually secured Texas independence. Afterward, Texas awarded Arnold land for his military service. But the Republic he helped create soon imposed severe restrictions on free Black Texans, including an 1840 law requiring free people of color to leave unless they received government permission to remain. Arnold stayed. His story becomes even more complicated in 1846, when his daughter Harriet was indentured for five years under an agreement made between Arnold and James Newcomb. The surviving record tells us what happened—but not why Hendrick made the decision. Rather than invent an explanation, we leave that question where history leaves it: unresolved. Then, in 1849, cholera changed everything. In this episode: Hendrick Arnold's arrival in Mexican TexasHis work as a scout and guide during the Siege of BéxarHis service during the Texas RevolutionThe land he received for his military serviceThe Republic's restrictions on free Black TexansArnold's decision to remain in TexasThe mysterious indenture agreement involving his daughter HarrietThe 1849 cholera epidemicWhy Harriet Arnold's story deserves an episode of its ownTexas trusted Hendrick Arnold when Texas needed him. Nearly two centuries later, perhaps it's time Texas remembered him. The Texan Edge — Texas history isn't the destination. It's the vehicle.  This isn't just a podcast, it's a Texas state of mind.

  6. Sep 17

    Charles Goodnight Had A Problem

    Send us Fan Mail   Description  Charles Goodnight had 1,800 cattle, 18 hungry cowboys, and a long trail ahead of him.  His solution was simple: take an old Army wagon and turn it into a kitchen that could travel with the herd. What began as a practical answer to an everyday problem became the chuck wagon—one of the enduring symbols of the Texas cattle-drive era.  In this episode of The Texan Edge, Tweed Scott tells the story of Goodnight's mobile trail kitchen and the very Texas idea behind it: sometimes innovation isn't inventing something brand new. Sometimes it's simply figuring out how to make what you've already got work better.  Show Notes  In 1866, Charles Goodnight and Oliver Loving were preparing to drive a herd of cattle from Texas toward Fort Sumner, New Mexico, along the route that would become known as the Goodnight-Loving Trail.  There was just one practical problem: somebody had to feed the cowboys.  Charles Goodnight's answer was to modify an Army surplus wagon into a traveling kitchen.  A wooden box fitted with shelves and drawers carried cooking supplies, a hinged front became a work surface, a water barrel traveled along with the wagon, and even firewood could be carried underneath.  The chuck wagon was born.  In this episode:  Why Goodnight and Loving headed west with Texas cattleThe problem of feeding cowboys on a long cattle driveHow Goodnight converted an Army wagon into a mobile kitchenWhat cowboys ate while they were on the trailHow the chuck wagon became an enduring symbol of the Old WestWhy some of the best ideas begin by improving something that already exists And maybe—just maybe—Charles Goodnight invented Texas' first food truck.   This isn't just a podcast, it's a Texas state of mind.

  7. Sep 15

    Old Rip

    Send us Fan Mail   Description  Old Rip: The Horned Toad That Just Wouldn’t Die  In 1928, workers opened the cornerstone of an old courthouse in Eastland, Texas. Inside were items placed there 31 years earlier—and a horned toad that appeared to be dead.  Then, according to the story, he opened his eyes.  They called him Old Rip, and before long this little Texas horned lizard was a national celebrity. He traveled the country, met President Calvin Coolidge, and became part of one of the strangest legends in Texas history.  Was Old Rip really sealed inside that cornerstone for 31 years? Was there a switch? Or was the whole thing an elaborate Texas-sized hoax?  Nearly a century later, people are still arguing about it. And maybe that's part of what makes the story so much fun.  Show Notes  Old Rip: The Horned Toad That Just Wouldn’t Die  In this episode of The Texan Edge, Tweed Scott heads to Eastland, Texas, for one of the state's strangest—and most enduring—stories.  In 1897, a Texas horned lizard was reportedly placed inside the cornerstone of the Eastland County Courthouse. When the cornerstone was opened 31 years later, the little fellow was found inside.  And then, according to witnesses, he started moving.  In this episode:  How a horned toad supposedly wound up inside a courthouse cornerstoneThe opening of the cornerstone in February 1928The moment Old Rip reportedly came back to lifeWhy skeptics questioned the story almost immediatelyOld Rip's rise to national fameHis trip to Washington and meeting with President Calvin CoolidgeWhat happened to Old Rip after his deathWhere you can still see him today Was Old Rip the toughest horned toad Texas ever produced—or the star of one terrific hoax?   Maybe some Texas stories are more fun when we don't know for certain.   This isn't just a podcast, it's a Texas state of mind.

  8. Sep 10

    The Second Battle of the Alamo

    Send us Fan Mail   Description  Seventy-two years after the Battle of the Alamo, someone barricaded herself inside it again. This time there was no Mexican army outside—there was a determined Texas schoolteacher inside.  In 1908, Adina De Zavala locked herself inside the Alamo’s Long Barrack for three days, convinced that an important piece of Texas history was in danger of being destroyed. Her fight put her at odds with fellow preservationist Clara Driscoll and helped ignite what has sometimes been called the “Second Battle of the Alamo.”  It’s a remarkable story about two Texas women who wanted the same thing—to save the Alamo—but had very different ideas about what saving it meant.  Show Notes  The Second Battle of the Alamo  The fighting at the Alamo didn’t entirely end in 1836.  By the beginning of the 20th century, the Alamo complex was threatened by development, and two determined women—Adina De Zavala and Clara Driscoll—played major roles in preserving it.  They began as allies. De Zavala helped lead the preservation effort, while Driscoll supplied much of the money needed to secure the property. But once the property was saved, the two disagreed sharply over what should happen next.  At the center of their dispute was the Long Barrack.  De Zavala believed it was an essential surviving part of the original mission and battlefield and needed to be protected. When she became convinced the building was in danger, she took an extraordinary step: in February 1908, she barricaded herself inside for three days.  In this episode of The Texan Edge, we look at the women behind the fight, what eventually happened to the Long Barrack, and why the story isn’t quite as simple as deciding which woman was right.  Both fought to preserve the Alamo. They simply had very different ideas about what preservation meant.  And more than seventy years after the famous battle, one determined Texas schoolteacher was still fighting for the Alamo.  This isn't just a podcast, it's a Texas state of mind.

About

  The Texan Edge Texas has never been short on stories. Some belong to famous names. Others belong to people you've probably never heard of. Some changed Texas forever, while others simply tell us something about the people who lived here and the place Texas became. I'm Tweed Scott, and on The Texan Edge, I tell those stories. We'll wander through Texas history, meet remarkable people, uncover stories that have been overlooked, and occasionally stop for something that's just plain fun. But history isn't really the destination. It's the vehicle. Because somewhere inside these old Texas stories, there's usually something worth carrying with us—a little courage, ingenuity, determination, humor, or maybe just a different way of looking at the world. You don't have to be born in Texas to understand that. You just need a little Texas state of mind. The Texan Edge — not just a podcast, but a Texas state of mind.