When I was little, I never thought about leaving West. Why would I? I had a huge family, two farms, and a quiet street where a bunch of other kids lived, all at my disposal. My parents were cool. After Mass on Sunday, Dad would take us to the Piccadilly Cafeteria in downtown Waco for dinner, which is what we called the noon-time meal. My sister, Karen, and I dressed in cute clothes, sometimes matching outfits. Occasionally, we go to the Chicken Shack—the best fried chicken and biscuits in the world. But mostly, we’d go to my mother’s parent’s farm for a feast. Life was good and easy.
Then something happened during my junior year in high school, and I realized there was another world out there, and I wanted to see it. I planned my escape. I remember when I told Mom I was going to college. I figured she’d be excited. When I saw the look of concern on her face, my defenses went up, and every ounce of stubbornness I had surfaced. At that time, no one in the family had gone to college. I’m sure she was thinking about how she and Dad could afford it. But she said, “Why don’t you take some data processing classes in Waco and get a job instead?” Data what? I was hurt and insulted. I felt she lacked the confidence in me to pull it off. To be truthful, I’m not sure what she thought. We didn’t have the type of mother/daughter relationship where we could sit down and talk. To her credit, I think she was just scared about the entire college thing. Anyway, the next day, I went to see the school advisor and told her my plan, and she helped me with my class schedule, indicating what classes I needed to take before I graduated high school.
It was tough going. I worked my way through college, starting at a local community college and then transferring to the University of Texas in Austin. It took me longer than the normal four years to finish, but I owned my degree when I did. I had no student loans to pay off. But what do I do with a degree in physical anthropology? I love the coursework, which involved understanding animal behavior and the origin of human development. Okay, what does one do with such knowledge? The answer was simple, move to New York City. I put everything in storage, packed some bags, and went off with $700 in savings and my dog. I was there for a year and a half and loved every minute, but rather than beginning my career, I pretty much played until I got the big city out of my system. I moved back to Austin to look for a teaching job.
I visited my parents a few times a year, but mainly out of obligation. I went to a few WestFests, the town’s annual Czech heritage celebration held every Labor Day weekend. But being in West wasn’t easy for me. I’m not sure why, except that maybe I felt I wouldn’t be able to leave if I spent too much time there. And what could I do there anyway?

Then something happened. I’m unsure how to label it except to call it “family.” My sisters got married and started having kids. Our extended family was huge, but now the immediate family was beginning to grow. Then something else happened; I started to write. I wanted to write travel articles and, hopefully, write for Texas Highways one day. So I pitched them a few ideas, and they took them. And those ideas were mainly about West. In the meantime, my sister’s kids had kids, and the family awareness intensified.
Ten years ago today, tragedy struck my hometown. The local fertilizer plant exploded and took out most of the north side neighborhood, two schools, the nursing home, and an apartment building. Fifteen people were killed, and here I sat 2,300 miles away, feeling helpless and useless. West recovered. New homes, schools, and an assisted living center were built. A memorial stands near the site of the explosion. Last year, I contacted the magazine again with the idea of writing about West and its recovery. My idea was an exposé on growing up in West, leading into the event on April 13, 2013. The magazine had a much better idea: interview a local who lived through it and someone who loved living in West and was an essential part of the community. The article came out a few weeks ago. It’s hard for me to read it without tearing up.
Will I ever move back to West? I don’t know.
Could I move back? Maybe.
One thing is certain. West will always be in my heart.
For more about the tragedy: https://www.usatoday.com/in-depth/news/investigations/2023/04/10/10-years-after-texas-chemical-explosion-risk-another-runs-high/11434312002/