I settled in to write about San Antonio — the city that raised me and captured my heart. After much reflection — and thoughts of escape in my early years — I can say with certainty: there’s nowhere else on earth I’d rather call home. Then I read something written by my friend and colleague, Susan Yerkes, who says everything better than anyone I know. I realized I could never truly capture the beauty of our city in words as well as she can. So, with gratitude, I’m sharing Susan’s love letter to San Antonio — her tribute speaks for both of us.
– Trisha Doucette
Live in San Antonio! Are you kidding?
I couldn’t wait to get out of this town when I got out of high school. To New York, L.A. … even just up the road in Austin, life seemed fuller, the people seemed brighter, the pace seemed faster.
Way back then, San Antonio seemed like a small-minded burg with big pretensions, run by old white guys in suits. Maybe it was a “good place to raise a family.” I was much more interested in raising hell, and this town was far too small to do that while you lived at home.
So, I went away, as many do.
Years later, when the family needed me, I came back for a short stay that turned into a long one. And a funny thing happened as I waited to get out of Dodge.
I fell in love. Not with a man — with a city.
San Antonio sneaked up on my heart like the “interesting” suitor with the funky ethnic vest who’s sometimes a little scruffy. One night, you realize his broad, spontaneous smile may be a little snaggly, but it’s completely unique, and it lights up your life. And those weird clothes are cool. He’s funny and laid back. He has this rhythm that makes salsa dancing with him heaven. And then boom! You’re hooked.
San Antonio has changed so much since my high school days, when The Rolling Stones toured here and Haight-Ashbury was still hippie heaven. A significant event in those days was hijacking the cannon from the Texas Military Institute, then located just up the hill from Olmos Park, and parking it in the main entrance to Alamo Heights High, with daisies in the barrel and a peace sign.
Today, the hill where Texas Military Institute trained kids from Dwight Eisenhower to Tom Frost is covered with pricey homes, and the venerable academy long ago decamped to a site near the Dominion.
The medical community is thriving, with new hospitals and clinics all over. UTSA’s merger with the University of Texas Health Science Center created a new powerhouse. Texas A&M San Antonio is growing rapidly. With Trinity, Incarnate Word, St. Mary’s, Our Lady of the Lake and the expanded Alamo Community Colleges, we’re a center of research and learning. SeaWorld and Fiesta Texas draw hundreds of thousands of visitors, while the River Walk and the Alamo — with marvelous new features soon to open, are still the hottest spots in Texas.
Texas A&M, Toyota and Brooks City Base have revitalized the South Side, and our beautiful old Spanish Missions won international fame as a World Heritage site. And the Alamo is finally getting the world-class treatment it deserves.
A new Spurs arena and a Missions baseball stadium are planned downtown. The Pearl and the Culinary Institute of America have transformed the River Walk’s Museum Reach.
But the things I fell in love with haven’t changed
The soul and spirit of San Antonio, forged on a shifting border where one country could become another, haven’t changed. Cultures and customs from many nations have produced a rich, thickly textured lifestyle here that blends Tex-Mex, German, French, Eastern European, African and Asian influences. Even Northerners are welcome. (Yow. Who woulda thunk it?)
San Antonio’s deep roots in history color the character of her people. We are individualists here; we appreciate a little quirkiness and, in the tradition of the Alamo, we love a good fight. San Antonians are also proud of preserving our treasures. Clara Driscoll and Adina de Zavala saved the Alamo. The Conservation Society saved the River Walk. The King William neighborhood is a national example of urban preservation, as are the Majestic and Empire Theatres, the McNay Art Museum and many more.
The past and the future are next-door neighbors here, and we celebrate them at the drop of a sombrero. The sounds and brilliant colors of Fiesta light up our lives all year.
We celebrate noisily together — Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Greek Easter, Cinco de Mayo, Bastille Day, the Fourth of July; multiple traditions breed more fun.
San Antonio’s arts community, always rich in spots, has opened to more people and styles. Blue Star and Artpace, Ruby City, the McNay and the San Antonio Museum of Art are the tip of the iceberg. The walls sprout murals.
The Philharmonic struggles, but chamber music thrives, and a rich mix of conjunto, Tejano, rock, rap, jazz and country music lays down the beats.
The pickleball courts are never closed because of snow, and you can hike, bike and golf at the city’s many courses year-round, even if it means getting up very early in the heat of summer. I could stable my horse 10 minutes from my condo and 15 from the office, and canter through miles of trails around Salado Creek when the world seems like a little too much.
When I left after high school, Naples was the only gourmet game in town. Like me, Naples left for years and returned. Mi Tierra, Casa Rio, Schilo’s, the Barn Door and the Little Red Barn are still around, but a generation of new chefs made us a foodie destination, and the Culinary Institute of America at the Pearl has inspired a host of Michelin-worthy chefs. From breakfast tacos to fancy foie gras, we have it all.
But there’s more to San Antonio. A subtler charm that grows on you. The city gets in your blood. Makes you restless anywhere the groceries don’t stock picante sauce, or the tires have snow chains. Makes you hum mariachi tunes, or tap your foot to an invisible steel guitar. Makes you want to show it off to visitors, and say, “Y’all come back,” when they leave.
When I left, I thought I’d find new and exciting places, and I did. But when I came back, I found San Antonio had plenty of beauty and excitement, and opportunities to make a difference. It’s a place to live an exuberant life, with depth that only a confluence of cultures can produce.
And today if I want to raise some hell, I don’t have to leave town to do it.
