Tales from the Road #7: East Texas

In true Kat Swansey fashion, I’m late delivering this post—several months late, if I’m being honest—but I got here when I could. 😉 In my defense, I’ve been busy publishing a book and hosting my first solo art show! Now that things have slowed down, I finally have time to get back to writing about my road trips.

My books are organized geographically to cover Texas’s diverse eco-regions. While working on the second volume of Texas Textures, I realized I didn’t have enough quality work for the section on East Texas. This left me scrambling to plan a trip around Thanksgiving. Luckily, it worked out perfectly since I was already planning to be back in my hometown, Brenham, Texas, for the holidays, and Brenham is 90 miles closer to East Texas than Austin, where I live.

Initially, I’d planned to make a weekend trip out of it. But after spending some time with family, I opted for a day trip instead. That meant hitting the road bright and early—around 6 a.m.—to maximize my daylight hours, since the days are shorter in the winter and I had 12 towns to visit. But, also in true Kat Swansey fashion, I hit the snooze button more times than I care to admit. When I finally made it out the door, I realized my grandparents had gotten up early to see me off. They are the sweetest, and I felt like a turd for snoozing.

My first stop of the day was a small town called Iola. I’d read that the downtown area was pretty old and that there might be a classic car parked outside a building. But when I got there, I realized there wasn’t much to see—which is sadly often the case in a lot of these towns. The classic car had been strategically placed outside a women’s boutique clothing store, which doesn’t interest me much, so I decided to keep moving. The only photo I took there was of the food market.

Iola, TX

Next up was North Zulch (pronounced Zoolch). This town had been on my list for years after I discovered that the old fillin’ station on the edge of town might still have some rusty gas pumps sitting outside. It was a blisteringly cold and soggy morning, and my shoes got soaking wet while poking around the store—but it was worth it. Though the gas pumps were long gone—probably stolen, if I had to guess—the building was still mostly intact, complete with a newspaper rack sitting on the front porch. I even found a pickup truck parked out front and an abandoned house out back. I’d wanted to scope out the house more, but the grass was too tall, and the highway intersection nearby was surprisingly busy, which made it feel too risky.

North Zulch, TX

My third stop of the day was a ghost town called High Prairie, located in Madison County. There are several communities across Texas that share the same name, so distinguishing the county is important if you decide to venture out and find it for yourself. High Prairie is about 11 miles from North Zulch, down a few country roads. The town was originally set up as a community for Black Texans, but Anglos began moving to the area soon after. All that’s left is a dilapidated church, which may have also been a schoolhouse at some point, based on the limited information I found online. A cemetery sits directly across the street.

High Prairie (Madison County), TX

Next on the agenda was finding an abandoned church in another ghost town called Ash. On the drive over, I realized I would pass by the old Austonio, Texas school, so I stopped at both. Both locations are fenced off, so you can’t get too close to them, but they still looked great in photographs. There isn’t much to report about the church in Ash, because almost no information exists about it. The school, however, was built in 1931 and served the nearby communities of Austonio, Ash, Mapleton, and Creek. It closed in 1964, and students were transferred to nearby Lovelady.

Ash & Austionio, TX

Neches was my fifth town of the day and perhaps my favorite one too. I didn’t have high hopes going into it, but the clouds broke and the sun came out shortly before I arrived, making it a beautiful day. Neches is situated off Highway 79, tucked behind a blanket of pine trees. As I wrote in my book:
“When you turn off Highway 79, you are met with a one-lane country road that branches off into a thicket of lush greenery. The road is narrow and secluded—it feels more like a trail than a roadway. But once you’ve made it about half a mile down, Neches opens up into a small but mighty downtown nestled against the backdrop of a big Texas sky.”

As soon as you cross the railroad tracks, the former hotel and store command your attention. They make up the largest building in town—one of only four to see, anyway. The rest of Neches consists of an old gas station, a railroad building, and a corner store that serves as the town’s main hub. Despite Neches’ meek existence, it’s a surprisingly busy place, with cars coming and going from the corner store the entire time I was there.

Neches, TX

Next up was a visit to Dialville, which was once a farming community but is now home to sawmills. The general store, which opened sometime around 1882, is a towering figure that almost feels out of place. After parking my car and walking toward the store, I had a distinct feeling that I was being watched. You know the feeling. I turned around to see who might be nearby and noticed someone a few hundred yards away, staring at me. It almost felt spooky, but then I realized they were just checking their mail. We waved at each other and went about our business, but I still felt a little off after that and took my photos in a hurry.

Dialville, TX

After Dialville, I ventured over to Rusk. I was excited to find the movie theater and the abandoned school, but my excitement quickly faded after rolling into town and discovering they were having a holiday parade. Downtown was packed with people, making it impossible to get a photo of the movie theater. And after moseying over to the school, I realized the sun had already veered too far west, causing lens flare no matter which direction I tried. I didn’t take a single photo while I was there!

Moving on, I made my way to Bugscuffle. I know this sounds insane, but Bugscuffle had been on my list to visit for years. Situated just off Highway 84, the only remaining structure in Bugscuffle is an abandoned gas station with a Bright & Early Coffee mural on the side. To my surprise, when I showed up, I noticed a car parked outside which led me to believe someone was already there poking around inside the building. After waiting for 10 minutes, I decided to cruise to my next spot a few miles away, hoping the car would be gone when I returned. That was not the case, however, and it occurred to me that someone may have had car trouble and left their vehicle there.

The building was hard to photograph, mostly because of the overgrown tree and weeds. The Bright & Early mural wasn’t visible, but that didn’t stop me from getting some shots of the old gas pump which, sadly, had been knocked over. Regardless, I made the best of it, and I really enjoyed the photos I was able to take.

Bugscuffle, TX

On my brief break from Bugscuffle, I took a five minute cruise over to Cushing, but found the town too hard to photograph. The streets were too narrow and I didn’t have the proper gear (lens) to make it work. But not all was lost, because on the way there I stumbled upon an abandoned church nestled among some pine trees.

At first, I thought I might be brave and venture inside. But on closer inspection, I realized the floor had completely fallen through from mold and termite damage.

Cushing, TX

Next up was a quick stop through Sacul, which has a really neat old building where they host a bluegrass opry. Back in the day, it had a set of old gas pumps out front, but now all that’s left is a Coca-Cola sign that looks fairly modern and was probably placed there recently. Regardless, I found the building charming and decided to snap a few photos.

Sacul, TX

Next I visited a ghost town called Dextra. I’ll be candid—Dextra creeped me out. The town sits along a one-lane dirt road, and about half a mile down, I came across a small, circular cabin hidden in the trees with upwards of a hundred birdhouses scattered throughout the branches. I found it quite unusual, but decided to keep going.

At some point, Dextra had a school, church, and several stores. These days, it’s nothing more than hidden farmland with two ramshackle abandoned homes and a lone church.

As I left, I passed the cabin with its many birdhouses again. This time, I noticed a sign at the end of the driveway that read, “We love you. Get home safe.” Though I’d initially felt the heebie-jeebies, I immediately felt silly for finding it all so eerie to begin with. I appreciated the well wishes as I continued on the journey back towards Brenham.

Dextra, TX

On the way home I realized I was making good time and still had a couple hours of daylight left. Instead of heading straight back to Brenham, I opted to cruise over to Alto and see if I could find what’s left of an abandoned church I’d found in a Facebook group about abandoned places in Texas. About 10 miles outside of town, I passed by an old community center that felt picturesque amongst the wavering grass.

Somewhere outside Alto, TX

Once I made it to Alto, I was determined to find the abandoned church. I couldn’t nail down exact coordinates for it, but I was able to find the general area thanks to some research that had been done for the Texas Freedom Colonies Project. For those unfamiliar, Freedom Colonies were communities settled by formerly enslaved people during the Reconstruction and the Jim Crow eras, providing a safe place for Black Texans to live independently and away from the perils of a hostile society. Though many of Texas’ Freedom Colonies are disappearing due to gentrification, natural disaster, and land dispossession, The Texas Freedom Colonies Project is working to identify and preserve these communities.

Thanks to their research, I was able to locate what’s left of Williams Chapel, hidden off Highway 69 just north of town. I wasn’t able to find the church itself—so I believe it may have collapsed—but I did find the old food hall, with three crosses nailed to the front. And if you’re wondering… no, I didn’t find it creepy for whatever reason, but the birdhouses definitely got the best of me. 😉

Alto, TX

After finding the church site in Alto, I decided to call it a day. The drive home took me through Crockett and—once again, in true Kat Swansey fashion—I had to stop and photograph an old car sitting in the driveway of an abandoned house. It’s a miracle I ever make it home some days!

Crockett, TX

All in all, my trip to East Texas proved fruitful. Four of the towns made it into the second volume of Texas Textures and I got to cross off 13 towns from my list. Not a bad day in the pines, if you ask me!

As always, here is a roundup of the towns I visited.

• Iola

• North Zulch (pronounced Zoolch)

• High Prairie (Madison County ghost town)

• Ash

• Neches

• Dialville

• Rusk

• Bugscuffle

• Cushing

• Sacul

• Dextra

• Alto

• Crockett

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See y’all down the road!

Kat