Ben Wheeler, TX

The passion behind our favorite places, and the story of a great man named Brooks Gremmels

(Above: Brooks Gremmels in the summer of 2013, photo by Peggy Ryan.)

A note to the community of Ben Wheeler: I am so happy that you are visiting and reading these words.  If you have anything you would like to add, please leave a comment, I would love to hear from you. – Peggy, Gracefully Global Travels


What if Gustave Eiffel’s controversial design for the Eiffel Tower had never survived? Or New York’s merchants and landowners had never proposed their idea for Central Park to the city of New York?  Going on vacation typically means relaxing, so we often don’t think too hard about the “why” and “if” behind the treasures we find.  But without knowing the specific history of our favorite destinations, one thing is for certain: behind every beautiful place and every famous landmark lies a rich and often tumultuous story, and a whole lot of passion.


Sometimes the root of this passion is clear: money. But I’m writing now not of those cases, but of the exceptions. Of the magic that happens when an exceptional person has a vision – not for their own personal gain, but for a collective gain – and finds the resources they need to preserve or create an important place that goes down in history.

Have you ever been to Colonial Williamsburg? As of 1926, some of the buildings were nearly in ruins.  A man named Reverend Dr. W.A.R. Goodwin feared the permanent loss of this invaluable piece of American history, and he found the resources to achieve his vision of restoring the city – mainly from the Rockefeller family – which is now one of the most significant preservations of U.S. colonial heritage.


The existence of Manhattan’s Museum of Modern Art, arguably the world’s most influential modern art museum, can be greatly attributed to one man named Paul Sachs, who skillfully united the proponents of the museum amongst countless naysayers in the 1930’s, a period when there was very little respect for living artists.

The people I’ve mentioned above are not especially famous. But the output of their passion is world-famous.  And there are people who possess similar qualities in our own hometowns who also remain virtually anonymous to us, but their vision and devotion to their city and the people who live in it improve our everyday life.  Simple touches like the flowers that might adorn the corners of your city’s downtown or the summer film series in your local park are proof that those people are working behind the scenes.


Which brings me to my most significant story of passion, my favorite story, and the reason I wrote this article.  Over the last ten years, a man named Brooks Gremmels has been transforming the city of Ben Wheeler, TX, a small city about an hour and a half east of Dallas, from a place where people kept trash in their front yards, to an incontestably charming city.


And while the chances that you’ll ever make it to Ben Wheeler are low, the story of Ben Wheeler is something that applies to every one of us, regardless of place and time. Without community, without pride, without vision, there is very little left to a city. In my favorite quote, the words of Mayor Joe Riley of Charleston, South Carolina, eloquently explain this concept, “In a city, every citizen’s heart must sing.”

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The center of downtown Ben Wheeler, post revitalization.

Brooks never heard Mayor Riley speak, but he already understood.  He worked tirelessly, and at times for something he couldn’t even quantify.  It would actually be easier to write about what Brooks didn’t do to this city because he did so much.  Brooks got rid of the trash in Ben Wheeler.  He moved buildings.  He lured artists to Ben Wheeler by offering free rent.  He personally wanted a place to have a glass of wine with neighbors in the evening, so, why not put in a restaurant? And then the music came…and a park, and finally a library doubling as a community center that holds yoga and karate classes.  And residents of Ben Wheeler that saw each other but once a year were now seeing each other weekly at the Pickin’ Porch, an open mic in a restored open space in the center of town.

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Ben Wheeler’s annual Fish Fry which takes place in one of the town’s many renovated spaces.

The people in and around Ben Wheeler now have a place to go to celebrate birthdays.  There are books to borrow for their children.  There’s a Christmas parade. These are basic things that we take for granted, but there are many communities, still, who don’t have these basics.

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Happy yoga participants in the library/community center.

Word got around about Ben Wheeler.  Suddenly this place that people used to blink and miss when they drove through on their way somewhere else, became so many things to so many different people: a tourist destination for art, a small retirement community, and a weekend hotspot for music lovers.

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A quiet moment after another successful concert in Ben Wheeler.

Brooks died last Sunday, January 26th, after a bravely fought battle with pancreatic cancer.   He was 70.  Last Tuesday the community gathered and planted 1,000 daffodil and buttercup bulbs in the center of town in his memory, in front of that restaurant where he so enjoyed meeting his neighbors over a glass of wine, and maybe even dancing on a table later when the music got really good.


Brooks was my real-life Reverend Goodwin and Paul Sachs. He was my hope and faith all rolled into one that there are people in this world with the heart, the intelligence, the imagination, the guts, the talent, and the devotion to make the change that should be made.

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Brooks and his wife Reese caught in one of their typically playful moments.

But I’ve been taking his death hard.  I’ve been procrastinating this blog entry, as it almost seems to make his death more real.  I have a lingering question weighing heavily on my mind: When someone like Brooks dies so brimming with passion, where does it all go?  Does it just disappear? I don’t want to believe it.


I take solace in knowing without a moment’s doubt that the secret to his passion is its contagiousness which has definitively spread to Brooks’ team including his wife Reese, Steve, Donley, Jenni, and his family Cary and Richard, and the superb community of Ben Wheeler, who treated me like family when I was there for two weeks last summer.

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Members of Brooks’ amazing team.

And when I think a bit harder, right under my nose I find these passionate people in my own community, my personal heroes, like my friend Cheryl, who fights tirelessly for our local library.  And my dad, whose work is never done, most notably helping found a major food bank.


It is hard saying goodbye to magnificent people like Brooks. But I believe in the persistence of their passion.  I know Ben Wheeler will remain a beautiful community.  And life will go on. And after reading this article, I just have one request for you: the next time you see the flowers on the street corner in your city, or you admire a historical building around the corner, please, take a moment to think…who is behind this?

  • If you would like to read more about Ben Wheeler’s story, my entry about my summer experience can be found here.
  • Another article written about Brooks and Ben Wheeler.

“Ben Revived” in Ben Wheeler

I just spent two weeks in Ben Wheeler, TX. Population unknown because, well, there are no city lines. But according to Wikipedia – the knower of everything, even the unknown – the population is 425.

When my mother first saw Ben Wheeler on my summer itinerary she asked me why I hadn’t told her I was seeing someone new. “Seeing someone?” I asked in confusion. “Ben Wheeler?” she responded. “That’s the name of the city, Mom,” I laughed. “Oh!” she responded, followed by a look of bewilderment. “Where’s that?”

I often got that kind of response when sharing my summer itinerary. My friends in Italy, on the other hand, who had studied Ben Wheeler with me in our urban planning class, couldn’t wait for me to get there. When my trip was confirmed we immediately got on Google Earth and happened to find a building with the word “salon” on it in the middle of what appeared to be a small concentration of buildings, which I have since learned were photographed before the area’s transformation. Was this downtown perhaps? “Looks like you have a spa date, Peggy!” laughed my friend Lauren. “I’m going to like every post you make on Facebook from Ben Wheeler, TX,” she giggled sincerely, perched on a chair in our favorite hangout in Bologna, Italy.

My friend from Austin messaged me when he found out about the trip. “Why Ben Wheeler? Why not Austin or Houston or Dallas?” My answer was simple – I was researching Ben Wheeler. After three years of following the transformation of this forgotten little place in East Texas as it blossomed into a little community with the help of a man with a heart, a checkbook, and a vision, I was as curious as curious could be about what I would find.

As it turns out, my wildest imagination couldn’t have prepared me for what I had in store. Now, don’t get me wrong – Ben Wheeler absolutely delivered on what Texas does best. I got my fair share of unsweet tea, fried pickles, big trucks, ranch dressing, cowboy boots, four-wheelin’, opinionated white guys, huntin’ stories, Obama jokes, guns, critters, and Coors light (imagine this said with an East Texas twang).

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But the surprises came just as quickly. My first big one was on the drive from the airport. “There are lakes in Texas!?” I exclaimed naively as we drove by a beautiful town nestled along the banks of a man-made lake. This was a shock. I love the Texas landscape, and with a few lakes in the mix I am a happy tourist, happily enjoying a relaxing afternoon suntanning by the lake and sipping unsweet tea.

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But the part of Ben Wheeler that came as the biggest surprise was being part of a community. I guess because I have never lived in a real, authentic community before, so I had no idea what a real community felt like. I guess I’m not so uncommon, though. The lucky few of us that can say we live in a community lead a different sort of life. The community of Ben Wheeler is a place where people don’t lock their front doors. They keep their keys in their ignitions. They go out to dinner without making plans to meet anyone because they know their friends will show up at some point and at the very least they can catch up with the restaurant staff. Or look out the restaurant window at the world going by in their picture perfect downtown. If they need to repair their fence, they ask their neighbor.

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I personally interviewed 97 people in Ben Wheeler. People that had retired here sounded like a broken record, “We never knew a single one of our neighbors the entire time we lived in Dallas. Now we know everybody.” A 20-something runaway told me, “I just got into my car and drove and ended up in downtown Ben Wheeler and my first thought was, ‘I think this is my last stop in life.'” Young families told me, “We wanted our kids to grow up where we didn’t have to worry about them playing in the front yard alone.” And a man that lives in the next town over mused about moving to Ben Wheeler, “Sometimes I sit here (in downtown Ben Wheeler) listening to music with friends, enjoying the evening, and we say to each other, ‘Isn’t this what it’s all about?'”

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It sure makes a city girl think. And think hard. After enjoying little villages across Italy and longing for the charm of these spirited places in America, Ben Wheeler has revitalized my faith that life in America doesn’t just have to be about shopping trips to Target, working out at the gym, and binge-ordering on Amazon. There are still true communities out there, defined by a simpler way of life, individuality and real connection between the people that makes them strong. In these places, they really actually want to know your name. And they’ll remember it.

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Thanks to Brooks Gremmels in Ben Wheeler – the man with the vision – his wife Reese, and their amazing team including Jenni, Donley, Steve, and the rest of fabulous Ben Wheeler for what you’ve done for community. I’ve definitely “Ben Revived.” 🙂

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Best of Ben Wheeler, a set on Flickr.