The Light Bearer: Cormac McCarthy, R.I.P.


By Wayne Allensworth (Factfile.org) The man who was our greatest living writer, a man who wrestled with God along with the ghosts of Faulkner, Melville, Dostoevsky, and Conrad, has passed away at the age of 89. May he rest in peace after having struggled mightily as an artist with the big questions—meaning, purpose, God and Man, life and death, good and evil–he never let go of in his...

A Manner of Speaking: Language, Technology, and Culture


By Wayne Allensworth I’ve always known there were dogs that wouldn’t hunt, and that you should let sleeping dogs lie. I’ve walked in high cotton, bit off more than I could chew, kept tabs on something or someone, had to be careful what I’ve wished for more than once, and have been disturbed to find the fly in the buttermilk (or ointment). Your humble servant is always fixing to do...

A D-Day Remembrance


by Wayne Allensworth   Consider this a follow up to my Memorial Day Message. Harold Oliver Allensworth was my uncle and namesake (My full name is Harold Wayne Allensworth). He was killed in action on June 6, 1944, D-Day, the Allied invasion of Europe. Sergeant Allensworth, the ball turret gunner on a B-24 christened “Sweating it Out” by its crew, would have turned 19 on June 29...

John Ford’s THe SEarchers and the Mythic WEst


By Wayne Allensworth The Searchers (1956), directed by John Ford, is a personal favorite of mine and a movie that influenced a whole generation of filmmakers, the generation of Spielberg, Lucas, Coppola, and Scorsese. Spielberg has said that he watches The Searchers before beginning each new film project, and the opening doorway sequence (pictured below) has shown up in other films–notably...

Bigfoot, Big Sam, Little Audie and the Texas Mystique


By Wayne Allensworth March and April are special months for true Texans. March 2 is Texas Independence Day. March 6 is Alamo Day. And April 21 marks Sam Houston’s victory over Santa Anna at the Battle of San Jacinto. What follows is a speech I gave in San Antonio, Texas in November 2004.  An associate and I were waiting for a flight to Washington, D.C. out of Moscow’s Sheremetyevo airport in...

Where Does the Time Go?


By Wayne Allensworth The sun is hitting the porch directly now, and I pull my chair up into the sunlight on a bright, coolish April morning. My wife and I are at her parents’ place in Central Texas, preparing for the estate sale, cleaning up the property to put it up for sale, too. And it’s harder for my wife than she thought it would be, letting go of this place. Yes, I said to her, it’s hard...



By Wayne Allensworth Some readers have occasionally criticized my writing for amounting to “mere” nostalgia, which is apparently supposed to be a bad thing. To that I plead guilty. Americans have long been conditioned to think of themselves as living in the land of tomorrow, a tomorrow without any yesterdays. I look back to a past that never seems distant to me, as dreamlike as it can be. Without...

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