  he didn't leave many options. It was either Jarrell or
Jarrell. Driving just a few miles south on I-35 we soon found ourselves at the sight
of one of the worst tornado disasters in Texas history. Setting aside our hunger, we
decided to check out the Jarrell Memorial Park just off the access road.
During the
afternoon of May 27, 1997, severe thunderstorms, which spawned numerous tornadoes,
developed in East-Central Texas, from Lorena south to Austin. Hardest hit was Jarrell, TX,
with 27 confirmed dead and extensive property damage. The tornado was rated F-5 which is
so severe only 1% of all tornadoes receive such a high rating.
The Memorial Park was modest yet well-equipped with a community
center, playground and basketball court. Having paid our respects to the community
and satisfied our passion for plaques we continued to drive around looking for any
restaurant. Finally we stopped in front of a place called
"EAT" and squeezed into a parking space. The place was Closed. Next door
was the Speedway Inn jam-packed with cars and people.
Sometimes there's nothing more comforting that
a neon beer sign. We elbowed our way into the place and after a few minutes standing in
the second row at the bar we were served. We then squeezed our way to the side door for
fresh air, elbow room and a chance to learn what all the fuss was about.
"Its a chili cook-off," a geezer older than
me said. "They got free samples over there. Just ask for it."
Well, that didn't take any arm twisting and we soon
found ourselves with plastic spoons and bowls in hand being served free food.
You can't beat those prices and frankly it was very good. Ms Intrepid scores again!
If you're new to Texas the Speedway Inn is one of
those Texas roadhouses likely to scare you off. It ain't pretty but it's real and
the folks are down-to-earth friendly.
With a beer and a bowl of red behind us we headed south for home.
And I-35 thru Austin was a breeze considering the trepidation experienced heading
into the city. This road trip was an exceptional experience and I'm still haunted by
the ambience of Bartlett. And that water-feature in Salado is still bubbling away
far from its belonging place.
Another Postscript: When I fessed up to Ms Intrepid that I
didn't get a single picture of the Blackland Prairie she informed me I wouldn't be behind
the wheel again, ever. "What about your map readin'?" I asked. She
gave me that "don't go there" look.
So next month you're likely to hear me going on about Ms Intrepid driving with the wheel
in one hand, a map in the other and me hunkered down somewhere in the back of the vehicle.
PAGE 1: INTRODUCTION
/ PAGE 2: BARTLETT
PAGE 3: SALADO
/ PAGE 4: POSTSCRIPT: JARRELL
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