For a good time:
It may have started as just a bar, all those years ago, but it has been much more than that to many aggies. For over 50 years, we’ve been on Northgate, celebrating the big wins, knocking back a few after a tough test, reminiscing and reconnecting with friends. We’ve been there for the awkward first dates, the 20 year wedding anniversaries, the nights to remember and the nights to forget!
I started drinking at the Dixie Chicken...
I started drinking at the Dixie Chicken in June 1979 during Freshman Orientation. I’m Class of 1983 and have attached a photo of my friends, Donald Drastata,Sheryl Barrett, and myself at our 15th Reunion in the fall of 1994. My husband, Paul Hons, and I became engaged here and return every year as we visit family and check on our retirement land. Our engagement story is already on your stories page. Gig’em!
– Cindy Dobbs Hons ’83
I majored in Dixie Chicken Studies
To hear my momma tell it, in the Fall of 1994 I majored in Bonfire, but in the Spring of 1995 I majored in Dixie Chicken Studies.
The Bird – my favorite appellation for her – was a natural match for me in those days: dark and foreboding, but full of life and abounding energy. I spent countless evenings (and afternoons . . . who am I kidding!) shaking bones and drinking from glass pitchers, or sitting on the back porch telling lies holding a longneck bottle. I learned more about the best parts of life standing under dusty trophies of Hill Country bucks and rusted signs, listening to Johnny, Waylon, Willie, and Jerry Jeff, than I could have anywhere else in the world. I formed friendships that will last a lifetime, romances that lasted a few short hours, and sentences that couldn’t survive outside my beer-addled mind. I’ve seen Don’s office – the result of running afoul of his strict no fighting rule – the rattler tank from the inside, and the floor of the men’s room up close and personal. So many nights I’ll never remember, a few I’ll never forget, and some so cloaked in the hazy gauze separating reality from legend that I can’t be sure they actually happened. In the story of my life, The Dixie Chicken is not a setting, she’s a living, breathing, ever-present character. Walking in through the swinging doors or up the steps on the back porch today is like seeing a loved one after too long a separation.
I don’t know if it’s true, what my momma says about me and my misspent semester with the Dixie Chicken, but I can tell you this for sure: I don’t remember a single damn thing I learned in the hallowed halls and erudite classrooms across University Drive in the Spring of 1995, but I’ll never forget the lessons I learned shaking bones, drinking beer, and singing those old country tunes with all my buddies at The Bird.
Thanks and Gig ‘Em!
Nathan J. Bouchér
Fightin’ Texas Aggie Class of 1998
on a whim, my friend and I decided to walk down to the Chicken...
My husband (class of 2001) and I met at the Dixie Chicken on July 14th, 2002. After being at Shadow Canyon most of the night, on a whim, my friend and I decided to walk down to the Chicken. There was a Gary P. Nunn concert on the back porch that hot sultry night. We came in to grab a beer and sit inside for a while. As we sat there chatting about considering a move to Houston to further my career, my future husband approached and asked if we’d like to join he and his friends. As we all sat together, we hit it off instantly. We sat there and talked like we had known each other for many years. After a game of pool he asked for my phone number. After 7 months of dating, we married on February 22, 2003 at the All Faith’s Chapel on the campus of A&M. We have been married 17 wonderful years and have 4 awesome kids (future Aggies) together. When we want to relive our younger years, we take a trip back to College Station and to The Chicken. This is where our love story began. The Dixie Chicken will always hold a special place in our hearts.
Amber Wittnebert
Football, the Chicken, then a ring...
On the night of the Texas Tech game in 2000, I brought my boyfriend, Paul Hones, to my favorite bar, the Dixie Chicken. Standing near where the two sides come together, he proposed. An Aggie girls dream!
– Cindy Dobbs Hons, Class of 1983.
A story about Don
This story had less to do with the Chicken and more to do with Don but here it is. That year had been dry. Don owned a little place kind of west of town over by the power plant. His cows had gotten out and were running on a much larger place. Don knew this but he did not have any grass so he just left them there. Finally the guy that either owned or leased the other place politely told Don that he was going to take those cows to the sale and where did he need to send the check….LOL. So late one afternoon we had to go out there and find his cows, drive them back to his place, and fix the fence. Now we had never seen his cows and we had never been on the other place which was quite large. Well against all odds we managed to find his cows and get them back. That only left fixing the fence before we could call it a day. There were 4 of us but only Nathan and myself had ever built fence. We were stretching the top wire when Don decided to intervene. He said we had not stretched it enough. We told him nope it is plenty tight. He disagreed as only Don could so we made it tighter and tighter. Finally when you could play music on it he was satisfied. Nathan and I were both concerned that that sucker could pop at any moment so Don grabbed a hammer and a fence staple and started pounding that sucker in. He had one misfire and that was enough. The wire popped and a barb went right across the top of his bald head. It may have bled a little. After that he left the fence building to Nathan and myself.
Billy Faught
Haley Marie Freeman
Old Ads, Ags.
Bryan/College Station Visitors Guide - 1974
It was the fall of 1988, the first week of class...
I have a little story for you Aggies! A LOVE story! Whoop! . My new roommates and I decided to do a little bonding over a few games of 42. So, like all good Ags, we headed to the Dixie Chicken. We played a few games of 42, and after a little while two of my roommates got up to leave. At that same time two guys from the table next to us got up to leave. We looked at the two remaining players, they looked at us, and I don’t remember who suggested it, but we combined players and continued to play. At the end of the night, the handsome green-hazel eyed CT asked me for my number. And so it began! Whoop!
Enjoying another fun night of bones...
Enjoying another fun night of bones in the Spring of ’91 with Mark Gaither ’90 (right) and Patrick LaCicero ’92 (left). Finally, Pat has the “God” hand and plans his execution, only interrupted by female domino groupies drawn in by the gravity of the situation. Pat was their mascot. What is the “God” hand in 42, you ask? Bidding 41 and making it EXACTLY by walking the 1-blank on the last play. Patrick didn’t complete the feat that night but he entertained us with every hand played. Even the stuffed white-tailed buck just above us was impressed.
Tragically, we lost Pat last year. He was an amazing father, husband, and friend. You are greatly missed my brother. The world just isn’t the same.
-Bruce Cherniak ’87
Love Story
Welcome to Miller Time
Friday, February 3, 1989, my husband, Dennis looked up from playing a game of pool to see me (a 5’2 blonde, blue eyed girl) walking through the crowd carrying and trying not to spill a pitcher of beer. My girlfriend and I had gone out to dinner and then headed over to the Chicken that evening. She knew one of the guys playing pool with Dennis, and we hung out with them and drank way too much! We were married almost 15 months later (April 28, 1990) and are inseparable! We have the pleasure of coming back to visit the Chicken through the years (especially when our son was going to school class of ’14) and enjoy how welcoming young Ags are when we older Ags come in!
Gig ’em and God Bless,
Dennis ’88, ’92 and Peggy Hill
Archive
My family has always been Ags. My stepmom and brother both graduated there. As the only non-grad, I had to find a way to get there. As a firefighter, I was able to attend the annual TAMU fire school. When I became a Dad, I knew the college I wanted my daughter to attend. When she was in elementary and middle school, we made nearly every game we could. Each time we came to The Chicken.
At first, my daughter saw it only as “a bar where Dad drank beer.” But after her first bite of a Freddy burger, I knew she was hooked. Why you ask? Because I couldn’t get a darn bite! I bought it only as a hunch she might like it! Now. If we’re in town for a game, she will know the time the game ends and the time The Chicken gets crowded and let me know it’s time to go.
I’ve told her the history of the place and explained the names etched in the walls and th tables. After about her fourth trip there she snuck in a Sharpie and while waiting on our food, left our mark at the Chicken. It’s now or defacto place to go on trips there. She limits her dear old dad to two beers but states she’s not limited in her food choices or her places to sit.
As a single Dad, it gives me such an honor to pass on to my little girl, the sense of feeling that the Dixie Chicken is. For all of us that have inhabited it since it’s glory days and the gravel parking lot; we know it’s more than just a bar or burger joint. It’s a way of life, it’s a family dinner on Sunday, it’s the pace you see your friends, it’s the place you’ve shared losses and gains. More greater than that, it’s a place we call home. And the Beasley’s, Kristen and Troy, call it home too. Thank you for all the memories!
– Troy Beasley