A Foundation of Passion
Letter from the Publisher
In the early Nineties, my brothers, Rey, Jake, and I spent our summers in San Angelo slightly different than most young boys between the ages of ten and fourteen years. We’d start off our days by walking down North Chadbourne Street on the lookout for a good neighborhood to turn into to achieve our hunt of a “jackpot.” Some mornings were glorious, perfect temperature, and we would walk with extra pep in our steps as the morning sunshine hit our faces. Motivated to find that house we knew would deliver us our proud moment of achievement, I would look over at Rey and ask him if he’d like to switch duties for a block or two. He’d nod is head and I’d hand him the reins to our 5.5 Briggs & Stratton lawn mower as he passed me the red one-gallon fuel tank half full of regular unleaded gasoline.
We’d already put some effort into scraping all the change we had between us to purchase the fuel we needed to mow a front and back yard for any size home. We would work at trying to find our “jackpot” well into the afternoon, but most days, anyone driving by us would have known from our body language it was a day of defeat. Defeat never held us back, as the day would still be young for us, but we held out hope for another option to make a few dollars, with the goal of heading to the Town & Country to order a cheeseburger with bacon, of course, and a large soda fountain drink… hey, we weren’t giving up so easy. With the mower safely stored, we’d exchange our equipment for large garbage bags, and make our way to the closest alley. As we stared down to the end of the alleyway the view of dumpsters lined up gave a promising chance that Town & Country was where the dinner bell would be ringing. As the oldest, I remember being compelled to be the first one to jump into that dumpster to begin digging and tearing through plastic bags to begin our search for those shiny, polished aluminum cans. I’d throw those cans out of the dumpster as I rummaged, and Rey and Jake would give a swift raise of their leg and bring their foot down hard with a crunch… what a wonderful sound of what might as well have been coins being produced at the United States Mint.
On a great day, we’d fill a bag almost completely and again we would share the responsibility of carrying it over our shoulders as we walked for what seemed like 5 miles to the recycling center. At forty-five cents per pound we were happy to feel the weight of the bag on our back, the reward was always worth it. Sitting on a curb enjoying that cheeseburger and sharing a soda with my brothers is only one of the memories that I will cherish about my childhood. The journeys we’ve experienced together gave me the foundation for the passion I have in all I do.
Create: Life. Community. Growth. A magazine dedicated to the journey individuals and companies of San Angelo take to create and grow their passion, folks who wake up every glorious morning sharing their gifts and talents, striving to pursue a goal with the same motivation to create a community life in which our children thrive, our neighbors are our friends, and our town grows. These are the characteristics you will find in the individuals and companies highlighted in the content and photos you read and see. Enjoy learning about our town, and those that play a vital role in making San Angelo home. And if you see three strapping boys along your journey, let them mow your yard.
God bless you,