Years ago, my trip to take daughter #1 to college in Memphis got sidetracked for a funeral in Houston, so the Memphis trip proceeded up 59 to Texarkana. We were west of Lufkin when we wanted lunch, so I told her "Here's what we do: head for town, locate the town square and circle it looking for checked curtains in the windows." Worked perfectly, we had wonderful chicken fried steak and peach cobbler.
More recently, a buddy and I attended a gun show in Taylor, Texas, northeast of Austin. Made friends with the two constables working the door and asked them for their lunch recommendations. They said "Go to Vencil's place." We didn't understand what they meant (or even what they had said), but they told us how to find it and we did. I judged the place to date from the 40s. We sat down and the nice waitress came over. I asked about the history of the place and she told us it had been started in 1947 by a guy back from the European theater of WWII. As we spoke with her, an old gentleman was rolled in in a wheelchair and placed under the window AC unit on the other side of the room. Waitress told us he was Vencil Mares, 95 years old, a WWII decorated hero and founder of the restaurant.
Later, as we ate the fine Texas BBQ, she brought us old copies of the town newspaper with a cover story on Mare's exploits. She had had Vencil autograph them for us. So, before leaving, we stopped by to meet and appreciate the guy. Neither of us could understand him, since he was sitting under a roaring AC unit, but we shook his hand and I think he understood that we honored him. As we left, we saw his shadow box holding his Silver Star and other decorations hanging by the door.
Stories like these help me appreciate little country places.