Austin

This is the seam where Texas changes. A belt of faults, active roughly 15 to 20 million years ago, dropped the Gulf Coastal Plain down against the Edwards Plateau, and almost everything follows the line: the hills start on one side and the blackland begins on the other, the springs emerge along it, and the road pattern, the soil, the rainfall and the vegetation all shift within a few miles. San Antonio, New Braunfels, San Marcos, Austin, Waco and Dallas are all strung along it, sited on the water it brings to the surface. The faults are considered inactive now — there is no meaningful earthquake risk on them.

The river arrives here having just left the Hill Country, and the change is abrupt: a few miles upstream it runs in a limestone canyon, and here it is on the coastal plain in a wide, flat valley. That break is the Balcones fault zone, and the city grew along it. The Colorado through Austin has been held at a constant level by a downstream dam since 1960 — the reason it looks like a lake rather than a river — and the constant temperature and level are what allowed an urban stretch of water to become the recreational centre of the city.

Onion Creek drops over a set of hard limestone ledges here on its way to the Colorado, and the rock is the tell: this is Austin Chalk and the harder beds beneath it, the first limestone the highway has met since leaving the Hill Country side of the state. The creek drains off the Edwards Plateau and crosses the Balcones fault zone a few miles upstream, which is why a stream on the coastal plain is running over stone at all. A bald cypress beside the lower falls is estimated at around 500 years old.

Hornsby Bend Bird Observatory is a hidden gem for bird enthusiasts in southeast Austin, Texas. This 1,200-acre site, part of the Austin Water Utility's Center for Environmental Research, is home to the Hornsby Bend Biosolids Management Plant. Despite its industrial purpose, the area is renowned for its biodiversity, attracting birders from near and far. The observatory offers a unique blend of habitats, including ponds, wooded areas, agricultural fields, and 3.5 miles of Colorado River bottom, making it a prime location for spotting a wide variety of bird species.

The story of Hornsby Bend as a birding hotspot began in 1959 when G. Frank 'Pancho' Oatman, a young birder from Austin, stumbled upon the sewage facilities while visiting relatives in Del Valle. Intrigued by ducks flying across the Colorado River, Pancho discovered the ponds and was thrilled to spot waterfowl in large numbers, including rare finds like the common goldeneye and Bonaparte's gull. His discovery quickly drew the attention of local birding experts, Edgar Kincaid and Fred Webster, who joined Pancho for further exploration. Their visits yielded even more rare sightings, such as a dunlin and lapland longspurs, marking the beginning of Hornsby Bend's reputation as a birding haven.

Over the years, Hornsby Bend has continued to attract birders eager to catch sight of its impressive avian diversity. With 349 species listed, the observatory offers birdwatchers a chance to see a wide array of birds throughout the year. The changing seasons bring different species, and even daily visits can offer new surprises. Binoculars and scopes are essential tools for birders navigating the treatment areas, and those on foot often have the advantage of seeing up to 50% more birds than those viewing from cars.

While many migrating birds merely pass over Hornsby Bend without stopping, the observatory remains a vibrant spot for birdwatching. The Center for Environmental Research enhances the experience with feeders and birdhouses, making it a welcoming place for both birds and birders alike. Whether you're a seasoned birder or a curious newcomer, Hornsby Bend Bird Observatory offers a unique opportunity to connect with nature in an unexpected setting.

Clifford Antone opened a blues club on Sixth Street on the fifteenth of July, 1975, and Clifton Chenier played the first night. It was an eccentric thing to do. Disco was ascendant, the Chicago and Delta players who had made the music were ageing and largely unbooked, and Antone spent his own money flying them to Texas to work. That is the reason the club matters. Muddy Waters, Albert King, Jimmy Reed, Jimmy Rogers and Eddie Taylor played long residencies here, and Antone made a habit of putting young Austin musicians on the same bills, so that Stevie Ray Vaughan, Jimmie Vaughan, Kim Wilson, Angela Strehli, Marcia Ball and Doyle Bramhall learned the music standing next to the people who invented it. The Austin blues scene of the 1980s came substantially out of that arrangement, and the club's nickname, Home of the Blues, was earned rather than adopted. The address kept changing. Antone's moved to Anderson Lane around 1980, to Guadalupe near the university in 1981, to West Fifth Street in 1997 and to East Riverside in 2013, before reopening downtown at 305 East Fifth Street on New Year's Eve of 2015, about three blocks from where it started. Clifford Antone died in 2006. The booking still leans on the blues, which for a club of this age is not a given.

Christopher B. Stubblefield, known to everyone as Stubb, ran a barbecue joint in Lubbock from 1968 where Joe Ely, Jimmie Dale Gilmore and Butch Hancock played Sunday night jam sessions in a room with a few tables and a jukebox. He was a better cook and a better host than businessman, went broke more than once, and moved to Austin in 1986, where he became a well known figure long before there was a restaurant with his name on it. He died in 1995. The Austin restaurant that carries his name opened the following year in an old stone building on Red River Street, and the part that changed the city is behind it: an outdoor amphitheatre cut into the slope down toward Waller Creek, holding roughly two thousand people, with the downtown skyline directly behind the stage. That yard is one of the reasons Red River became Austin's live music district. It is large enough to take touring acts that would otherwise skip the city or play a shed in the suburbs, and small enough that it still feels like a club show. During South by Southwest it is one of the festival's principal outdoor stages. Stubb never saw it, which is worth saying plainly, because the venue is named for a man whose actual contribution was thirty years of feeding musicians for free in another town.

This bar opened on Guadalupe Street across from the University of Texas in 1974 and was never meant to be a music venue. Its owner Doug Cugini has said as much: musicians drank there, so he let some of them play, and the stage grew out of that rather than from any plan. It turned fifty in 2024, and something like ten thousand musicians have worked it. The first years were a folk room, with Townes Van Zandt, Blaze Foley and Nanci Griffith on the bill. Cugini has said Griffith was the first act that people came specifically to see, packing the place with the forty or so who would follow her. What followed was less predictable. The bar became a proving ground for punk, cosmic country and whatever the university crowd was listening to next, and Timbuk 3, Fastball, Spoon and Shakey Graves all played it before anyone had heard of them. Stevie Ray Vaughan, Lucinda Williams, Doug Sahm, Shawn Colvin and Reverend Horton Heat played it too. It sits on the Drag, the commercial strip facing the campus, in a low building that has been swallowed on both sides by newer and taller student housing. The room is small, the front bar is separate from the back stage, and it opens early. Very few American college towns still have a venue of this age doing the same job in the same building.

A honky tonk that opened on Comal Street in December 2011 and immediately became the centre of gravity for country music in East Austin. Nathan Hill and Denis O'Donnell built it deliberately: O'Donnell had managed the Hole in the Wall for years, and the idea was a room where the honky tonk players they most respected could work several nights a week rather than occasionally. That residency model is what makes it worth stopping for. Modern outlaw and traditional country acts including Mike and the Moonpies and Leo Rondeau established themselves on this stage through repeated weekly bookings, which is how a scene is actually built and is close to extinct as a business practice. There is a dance floor, it is used, and free dance lessons early in the evening mean a room full of people who can two step by the time the band starts. It sits a block south of the East Sixth Street bar strip in a plain building with a patio and a taco trailer out back, and free dance lessons early in the evening mean the floor fills with people who can actually two step by the time the headliner starts. Austin has older country venues and grander ones, and the Broken Spoke on South Lamar is the famous one, a 1964 dance hall with a four lane road built up around it. This is where the younger half of the same tradition plays. The revival of two step dancing among Austinites in their twenties and thirties over the past decade ran substantially through this room, and on most nights it is the busier of the two.

The "Hi, How Are You" mural by singer-songwriter Daniel Johston, is one of the most recognizable and cherished pieces of public art in Texas. Painted in dark ink against a brick wall, the mural depicts a wide-eyed, stalk-eyed cartoon frog greeting passersby with an unassuming speech bubble asking: *"Hi, How Are You?"*

What began as a quick $100 store commission has transformed into an internationally recognized emblem of Austin’s eccentric art scene, independent music history, and \mental health advocacy.

## History of the Mural

In 1993, the building at 21st and Guadalupe housed Sound Exchange, an iconic independent record shop frequented by UT students and local music collectors. Craig Koon, the store’s manager, asked local singer-songwriter and visual artist Daniel Johnston to paint a mural on the building’s exterior brick wall to give the storefront a distinctive identity. Johnston agreed and was paid $100 for his work. Armed with paint, he recreated the friendly creature that had adorned his 1983 self-released cassette tape, *Hi, How Are You: The Unfinished Album*.

When Sound Exchange closed its doors in 2003, the property was purchased by a fast-casual Mexican chain, Baja Fresh. The original plan was to paint over the wall during renovations. The announcement triggered an overwhelming community backlash from Austin residents, students, and local musicians who viewed the mural as sacred local heritage. Recognizing the public outrage, the new owners preserved the wall intact and built the restaurant around it.

Subsequent tenants have continued to respect and preserve the artwork. In 2014, the site was officially declared a cultural landmark. Despite facing occasional acts of graffiti over the decades, the mural has been repeatedly restored by local arts preservationists and stands as a permanent fixture of Austin iconography.

## The Character: Jeremiah the Innocent

The friendly, stalk-eyed creature featured on the wall is named **Jeremiah the Innocent**. Though often misidentified simply as a generic bullfrog, Jeremiah was a central recurring figure in Daniel Johnston’s personal mythology and artwork.

* **Origins:** Johnston named the character in playful homage to the opening line *"Jeremiah was a bullfrog"* from Three Dog Night’s 1970 hit single "Joy to the World".

* **Symbolism:** Drawn with raw, childlike simplicity, Johnston often portrayed Jeremiah as a symbol of pure innocence, vulnerability, and a gentle defense against dark thoughts and internal demons.

* **First Appearance:** Jeremiah originally entered the public realm on the hand-copied cassette sleeves of Johnston’s 1983 album *Hi, How Are You*, which Johnston hand-distributed around Austin.

## The Legend: Who Was Daniel Johnston?

Born in Sacramento, California, and raised in West Virginia, Johnston was an outsider artist and singer-songwriter.. In the mid-1980s, Johnston ran away with a traveling carnival before settling in Austin, Texas. While working behind the counter at a local McDonald’s on Guadalupe Street, he became a fixture on The Drag, handing out handmade cassette tapes of his piano-and-organ home recordings.

Johnston's songs, recorded on cheap cassette boomboxes with unvarnished, squeaky vocals and deeply poetic lyrics about love, unrequited longing, and superhero mythologies, captured the attention of the local music scene. He became a central figure in Austin’s "New Sincerity" alternative music movement.

Johnston’s cult status erupted into global fame when Nirvana frontman Kurt Cobain routinely wore a T-shirt featuring Jeremiah the Innocent and the phrase "Hi, How Are You" during promotional tours and high-profile appearances, including the 1992 MTV Video Music Awards. Cobain's endorsement catapulted Johnston into international music headlines, leading to major-label attention and widespread acclaim from alternative rock figures like Tom Waits, Beck, Built to Spill, and The Flaming Lips.

His life and struggles were later captured in the critically acclaimed 2005 documentary *The Devil and Daniel Johnston*. Following Johnston’s passing in 2019, the Austin City Council officially designated January 22 (Johnston's birthday) as **"Hi, How Are You Day"**. Led by the Hi, How Are You Project non-profit, the annual event uses the mural's simple greeting as a prompt for open conversations surrounding mental health awareness, encouraging people around the world to check in on friends and loved ones.

## Visitor Information

* **Address:** 2100 Guadalupe Street, Austin, TX 78705 (Corner of W. 21st St & Guadalupe St).

* **Best Time to Visit:** Morning or late afternoon offer clear lighting for photos without blocking foot traffic along The Drag.

* **Photography Etiquette:** The mural sits directly on a public sidewalk. Be mindful of pedestrians, UT Austin students rushing to class, and local patrons.

* **Nearby Highlights:** Combine your visit with a walk through UT Austin's campus, a visit to the nearby Harry Ransom Center, or a browse through historic shops along Guadalupe Street.

Eight words in red spray paint on a green wall, and they were not meant to be public art. In 2010 the musician Amy Cook wrote them on the side of Jo's Coffee on South Congress in the middle of an argument with her partner Liz Lambert, who was the majority owner of Jo's. It was a private apology written in the most public place available, in daylight, on her girlfriend's own building. South Congress already had heavy foot traffic, and the wall was absorbed almost immediately into the city's photographic routine. It is now one of the most photographed spots in Austin and appears in a great many engagement announcements, which is a strange fate for a line written during a fight. In January 2011 someone painted over it. The wall went back to plain green, and after a few weeks Cook and Lambert restored the message exactly as it had been. Since then it has been retouched rather than left to fade, and there is generally a short queue of people waiting their turn in front of it. Jo's is still a coffee window with a patio rather than a gift shop, and it sits beside the Hotel San José, another Lambert project and one of the buildings that started the transformation of this stretch of South Congress in the 1990s. Amy Cook is a working songwriter with a substantial catalogue of her own records. The wall itself is the ordinary side wall of an ordinary single storey building, which is worth noticing, because the entire attraction is eight words of hand sprayed paint that no one commissioned, approved or planned.

Three men in bronze are arguing at the entrance to Barton Springs Pool, and they are life size, unheroic and mostly undressed. Glenna Goodacre's sculpture was installed under the pecan trees here on the twenty first of November, 1994, commissioned by the Austin nonprofit Capital Area Statues. It shows the folklorist J. Frank Dobie, the naturalist Roy Bedichek and the historian Walter Prescott Webb, three friends who genuinely did spend afternoons at this pool through the 1940s and 1950s talking about Texas. The staging is the point. Dobie and Bedichek sit on the rock in swimming trunks, potbellied, wrinkled and slack muscled, and Webb stands in front of them in a shirt, suspenders and rolled up trousers with his glasses on. It is a monument to three of the most important interpreters of the state that shows them exactly as they would have looked to anyone walking past with a towel. Goodacre was among the best known American sculptors of her generation. She also made the Vietnam Women's Memorial in Washington and designed the face of Sacagawea on the dollar coin, and she died in 2020. Barton Springs itself is a spring fed pool that holds near sixty eight degrees all year, so the swimmers walking past these three are doing exactly what the three of them came here for.

Behind a souvenir shop on Sixth Street is a deliberate revival of a form of entertainment that died out a century ago. Steve and Veronica Busti opened Lucky Lizard Curios and Gifts here in 2005, and Steve began filling an unused room at the back with the oddities he collected, on the model of the dime museums P. T. Barnum ran in the middle 1800s: a paid room of curiosities, shown without apology and without much explanation. What is in it includes shrunken heads, two headed animals, mummified remains, wax figures of the Universal movie monsters, a Fiji mermaid of the sort stitched together from a monkey and a fish for the nineteenth century sideshow trade, and a frozen manlike figure that toured carnival midways in the 1960s as a supposed missing link. A small stage upstairs runs live sideshow acts, the sword swallowing and escape artistry that would have shared the bill with the exhibits originally. The point is not that any of it is real. A dime museum never claimed to sort the genuine from the fake, and this one does not either. It is one of the few places left in the country working in that tradition rather than exhibiting it at arm's length, and it sits on the loudest three blocks of bars in Texas, which is roughly where it belongs.

Austin's airport is a converted bomber base, and the runways beneath the airliners were laid out in 1942. It opened that September as Del Valle Army Air Base, on three thousand acres leased from the city, and in March 1943 it was renamed for Captain John August Earl Bergstrom. He was an Austin man, serving as an administrative officer with the 19th Bombardment Group at Clark Field in the Philippines, and he was killed there on the eighth of December, 1941, the day after Pearl Harbor, in the attack that destroyed most of the American air strength in the Pacific. He was the first Austinite to die in the war. His former employer, Austin National Bank, pressed the case for the name, and their congressman, Lyndon Johnson, took it to the Army Air Force. It became Bergstrom Air Force Base in 1948 and spent the Cold War flying reconnaissance aircraft and later fighters, closing on the thirtieth of September, 1993, when the land reverted to the city. Austin's old airport, Robert Mueller, was hemmed in by neighbourhoods and could not be extended, so the city moved out here, and Austin Bergstrom International opened in May 1999. Everyone in Texas says the name several times a year without thinking about it. It belongs to a man who was thirty four when he was killed and who never came home.

Official residence of the Governor of Texas. By law, each chief executive must live here during his term of office. Before the erection of this building in 1855-1856, the only official executive home had been the rough, two-story frame "President's House" at present Seventh and San Jacinto streets. Within these walls, many decisions of statewide import have taken place. Here in 1861, Gov. Sam Houston decided not to support the Confederacy. Also, like numerous 19th-century houses, the mansion acquired a ghost story after the nephew of Gov. Pendleton Murrah (1863-1865) committed suicide here. Built some thirty years before the pink granite capitol, this structure was first occupied by Gov. Elisha M. Pease, who selected the site and design. Pioneer architect-contractor Abner Cook supervised the construction of the stately residence, in Greek Revival style. Austin-made bricks were used, and huge pine logs were hauled from Bastrop, then adzed to form the six massive pillars with Ionic capitals. Distinguished visitors have included U.S. Presidents and heads of state from other countries. More than perhaps any other residence in Texas, the Governor's Mansion is a repository of Texas history. (1969) (Recorded Texas Historic Landmark - 1962)

Lumber dealer Charles F. Millett's 1878 Opera House became a cultural center for Austin, The theater had 800 moveable seats, plus boxes. Operas and dramatic performances featured such noted actors as Edwin Booth, Joseph Jefferson, Sir Henry Irving, and Otis Skinner. On March 10, 1899, Democratic Presidential nominee William Jennings Bryan gave a speech here. Other activities included Legislative sessions, balls, inaugurations, songfests, political conventions, commencements, and skating. The two-story limestone building was altered in 1896 and 1911 to include a third story addition and a two-story Classical portico. Recorded Texas Historic Landmark ' 1965

Originally called the 'Majestic,' this theatre was erected in 1915 by businessman Ernest Nalle (1876-1950). Designed by the Chicago architectural firm of Eberson, Fugard, and Knapp, it was constructed under the direction of local architect George Endress. During the 1930s, the theatre was renamed the 'Paramount' and was lavishly remodeled. Since its opening, the theatre has been a showcase for traveling vaudeville shows, dramatic and musical stage productions, and motion pictures. Recorded Texas Historic Landmark -- 1976

Built 1871-72 as an opera house by Austin Turn Verein, a German social society. Used for gymnastics, feasting and dancing, it was a social center for years. Purchased in 1912 for Ben Hur Shrine Temple and remodeled, blending Southwest and Mission style architecture with Arabic accents. Transferred in 1914 to Scottish Rite bodies of Austin who allow other Masonic groups to meet here. Recorded Texas Historic Landmark - 1967

Built during the period 1877-1881 as a federal courthouse and post office, this was the sixth United States post office location in Austin, dating from the establishment of the first post office in 1840. The building was constructed by Abner Cook, famed early Texas builder, at a cost of $200,000. James G. Hill of the U. S. Treasury Department was the supervising architect. Following construction of the new post office at 210 West Sixth Street in 1912-1914, the building continued to be used as a courthouse and later for miscellaneous federal agencies until 1968. Given to the University of Texas System by the federal government, the building was restored by the university in 1971 and named O. Henry Hall after William Sidney Porter, a noted American short story writer whose psuedonym was O. Henry and whose trial was held here in the federal courthouse. Architecturally, the building is considered to be of national significance because of its exact symmetry and pure lines apparently inspired by the design of Italian High Renaissance palaces popular in the late 1870's. Compared to typical architectural design of federal courthouses in this period, this building is unique both in Texas and the nation. [Recorded Texas Historic Landmark - 1974]

(1814-1883). Almaron and Susanna Dickinson settled in Gonzales about 1835 as members of DeWitt's Colony. Present with her daughter, Angelina, when the Alamo fell in March 1836, Susanna witnessed the deaths of Almaron and the other Texans. She was released by Mexican General Santa Anna after the battle, and with an escort made her way to Sam Houston with news of the Alamo. She married Joseph Hannig in 1857 and lived in Austin until her death. Recorded-1993.

Greek Revival architecture, typical of the South. Erected about 1853 for Washington L. Hill by master builder Abner Cook. The hand-cut limestone walls were cemented with a mortar containing pig bristles. First Institute for the Blind in State of Texas, 1856. Hospital for Civil War soldiers, 1865. Home in 1880 of Republic of Texas patriot, Col. Andrew Neill; 1893-1913, Judge Thos. B. Cochran, Bar President, Masonic leader. Recorded Texas Historical Landmark - 1966

This complex is an industrial and architectural landmark in Austin. Electric power arrived in the Texas capital in 1895, after the Colorado River was first dammed to generate electricity. The city of Austin has owned its own generation and distribution system ever since, a rarity among large cities. A growing population and post-World War II demand for new appliances and air conditioning increased the need for electricity. In 1948, the city of Austin commissioned a new power generation plant to be built here, just west of the existing site. Designed by the nationally known Kansas City engineering firm of Burns & McDonnell, the complex developed in two phases in 1950 and 1955. The massive plant included a generator building, which initially housed two Hydrogen-cooled turbine generators but was designed to expand to five as demand increased; outdoor boilers; an oil heating plant; a demineralization building; and a water intake structure. The buildings reflect the Art Moderne style, with site-cast structural concrete, scored concrete panel cladding, metal divided-light windows and glass blocks. The turbine generator building includes distinctive illuminated Moderne graphics in its signage. The buildings are solid concrete construction, although other power plants built by Burns & McDonnell up to that time had utilized structural steel. On June 2, 1960, the city of Austin posthumously dedicated "Power Plant No. 2" to Walter E. Seaholm (1897-1956), who served the city of Austin for 35 years, including stints as City Manager and Director of Utilities. Seaholm Power Plant remained an active part of the city's power generation system until 1989. Recorded Texas Historic Landmark ' 2007

Founded in 1875 by the Rev. George J. Tillotson with the support of the American Missionary Association and congregational churches, Tillotson Collegiate and Normal Institute was chartered in 1877. Building on a foundation already set in Austin by the Evans Industrial School, Tillotson College focused on teacher training and quality education for African Americans. In 1925 Tillotson was designated a junior college. In 1926 it became a women's college and Mary Elizabeth Branch assumed the presidency in 1930. During her tenure, the school returned to its co-educational status as a full four-year institution. Through Branch's efforts, a partnership with Samuel Huston College was established, and in 1952 the two schools merged to form Huston-Tillotson College. (1999)

To accommodate an increasing African American population, the Austin Public School system (later the AISD) built E.H. Anderson High School in 1909, renaming it L.C. Anderson High School in 1938. The same year, the Austin City Plan restricted construction of future African American schools to the segregated neighborhood east of East Avenue. Post-war population growth and the need to improve its "separate but equal" facilities led AISD in 1953 to build a larger, more modern building for Anderson High School. L.C. Anderson High School became a social center for the entire community, hosting athletics, plays, concerts, and graduations, and despite its disadvantages, the students excelled in academics, athletics, and music. In 1955, the U.S. Supreme Court's second Brown v. Board of Education decision ordered schools nationwide to desegregate "with all deliberate speed." Austin implemented a "freedom of choice" program, allowing students to choose where they attended school, but in 1968, the U.S. Department of Health, Education, and Welfare declared AISD noncompliant with the Civil Rights Act of 1964. In 1969, AISD attempted to integrate Anderson, but only 17 white students enrolled. In 1971, when a U.S. district court redrew attendance boundaries, only 40 white students attended, as many white parents would not allow their children to attend Anderson. In 1971, AISD, with the court's approval, closed Anderson High School and ordered the busing of African American students to predominantly white high schools within the district. The closure of L.C. Anderson High School at this location, Austin's only Black public high school, diminished the cohesiveness which made the historic L.C. Anderson High School such a focal point for the surrounding community. (2018)