The Great Texas Road Trip Thank-You Tour: 14. Twitty, Texas

For the plains of Texas, there is a lot of eroded earth around Canadian, which is always a pleasant thing in such a large topography-deprived state.  That is more apparent from the air than from the ground.  Still, even zooming down the highway, there are low, dry buttes and bluffs that stand out above everything else.  I looked out the window and enjoyed what was there.  Marci read her book and reluctantly put it down as I pointed out how "rugged" the terrain was.  Then she went back to her book.  This is our pattern on long trips, and we like it.  There is a soft, quiet music to it. And so the time and miles went by.  We went through Wheeler, although I didn't remember it.  I only know because of Google Maps.  We also went through Twitty, Texas.  I don't remember that either, which makes more sense, as there are only three or four houses.  Still, it's worth finding out whatever I can about that place.  Can you imagine having to say, "I come from Twitty, Texas"?   Not a good thing.

Perhaps it was that precise fear that plummeted the population of Twitty from 116 in 1980 to 60 in 1990, and finally 12 in 2000 (Anderson).  That's a growth of -56 from 1980 to 1990, and a growth of -48 from 1990 to 2000.  I'm not much of a mathematician, but it seems, based on trends, the projected growth between 2000 and 2010 would then have to be around -40, which would put the projected population at -28, in 2010.  Therefore, the current population of Twitty is (I'm ball-parking it here) around -60.  However, my math must be flawed somewhere because I know it is never safe to say, "There are no Twits left in Texas."

Also, there appears to be at least one residence left, perhaps the Conways.  At first glance, you may say, "That building is abandoned, you nincompoop."   However, the somewhat shiny vehicles parked around the side say otherwise.  There is proof here, I tell you, that Texas Twits are real, not that you ever doubted that.

Twitty, Texas today

On the one hand, it seems like I'd remember going through Twitty.  It's such a classic example of American heartland decay, but on the other hand, Texas is filled with such scenes.  It's sort of like not noticing a saguaro cactus in Arizona.  Sure, it may be a classic symbol, but they're everywhere in their respective region.  Rural decay is as Texan as Republican politicians boasting the economic miracle of trickle-down economics.

Don't let those gleaming city skylines fool you, Texas is a poverty-festering state.  Statistically, it's hard to pin down exactly what poverty is.  Apparently, it depends on how you look at it because lists don't always agree, other than all lists agree Mississippi is indeed a very poor place.  But, using multiple lists, it seems Texas has the 13th highest poverty rate in the nation, at 17.2% (Pariona).  That means 38 states have lower poverty rates.  Also of note--all of the top 10 poorest states, except New Mexico, are conservative states (Mississippi, Louisiana, Alabama, Kentucky, Arkansas, Georgia, West Virginia, Tennessee, Arizona) (Pariona).  If the Republican economic model is so effective, why is it that it is the conservative states that are so dang poor?

There are exceptions, of course, like Wyoming and Utah, but they are  indeed exceptions to the rule.  It may be that the brand of conservatism in those two states looks different than the nation as a whole.  Both pushed for women's suffrage early on, Wyoming being the first to allow women to vote in 1890, and Utah being the third in 1896.  Colorado was second (National Constitution Center), and until fairly recently,  it was a conservative state.  It is possible Western conservatism and Southern conservatism are not the same thing.  That would be an important thing for the folks of Wyoming and Utah to realize because voters there may in fact be supporting a national conservative agenda that does not coincide with their core beliefs.

For instance, although Utah is socially conservative politically, there is a huge economic safety net provided through The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, which has the most effective welfare system in the world.  As 55 percent of the population is Mormon, a lot of the population is taken care of, when needed, outside the government support system.  In rural areas, where economic opportunities are fewer, the Mormon make-up  is much higher, in some counties, more than 80 percent. Although the LDS Church does not limit its welfare program to members, I doubt many outside the church are comfortable seeking those resources. As the state's demographics are quickly diversifying, and that safety net reaches less and less of the population, its citizens may need to rethink their position on government assistance.  Taking care of the poor and elderly is a core belief and obligation of a majority of its population.

Whereas Mississippi has the historical legacy of slavery and segregation as its economic model, Utah has the historical legacy of economic socialism under Brigham Young and the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.  Some counties in Utah once practiced what was called the United Order where everyone turned in all their income to the Bishop's Storehouse and then received only what they needed, so that those who made less were equally provided for.  In short, Utah's conservatism is built on a historical model of economic inclusion, and so there is not a significant portion of generational poverty, while Mississippi's conservatism is built on a historical model of economic exclusion, and so generational poverty is rampant.

Texas was built on that same Southern exclusionary economic system, and poverty is everywhere.  On top of that, the Dust Bowl left its own trail of gutted out towns as small, privately owned farms collapsed, never to return again, eventually replaced by large, automated corporate farms that require so much less labor.

Twitty, Texas is not only a town; it is a symbol of things gone wrong.  It is also probably a symbol of so much gone right, but those stories are not visible on Google Earth, in demographic tables, or my armchair political analysis and social theories.  Those stories are told around the dinner tables--not the dusty ones in the vacant houses that remain in Twitty, but in the lively dinner tables of the descendants now living in places like Amarillo, Oklahoma City or Wichita Falls.  I have no access to the real stories, and so instead, I give you my politics.  I may be a genius, or I may be a nincompoop.  One thing for sure is that I'm not a Twit.  Although, I don't think I'd mind being one.  It'd be fun to fix up that old gas station/store there on the corner as a residence, set some lawn chairs under the shaded covering, and just sit out there and watch time pass while sipping lemonade.  Life is not where you spend it, but how you spend it.  The stories about how we spent our days we mostly take with us to our graves.   Little bits perhaps are passed down a generation or two around the dinner table, and then they're gone, dust in the wind, like Twitty, Texas.

References

Anderson, H. Allen. Twitty, Texas. n.d. 4 February 2019. <https://tshaonline.org/handbook/online/articles/hlt40>.

National Constitution Center. Centuries of Citizenship: A Constitutional Timeline. 2006. 4 February 2019. <https://constitutioncenter.org/timeline/html/cw08_12159.html>.

Pariona, Amber. U.S. States by Poverty Rate. 1 October 2018. 4 February 2019. <https://www.worldatlas.com/articles/us-states-by-poverty-rate.html>.