A magical thing happened in late October, and I didn’t see it coming.
I was showing an old friend around my new hometown—there’s the courthouse and restored movie theater and the old Carnegie library building—and feeling more like a tourist than a permanent resident. We turned down Washington Street to stop by the coffee shop I frequent too often and were met with a surprise.
Up and down the street, storefronts were decked out in red and black paint—a mighty show of spirit for our high school football team, the Bombers. The regular season was officially over. It was time for Sectionals.
Those decorated windows shifted something in me. Suddenly, my new hometown felt less unfamiliar, less like a quaint stopover and more like a place I already knew.
That place was unmistakably Dillon, Texas.
If you know Friday Night Lights (the TV series), you know Dillon. It’s where…
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