Junction, Pop. 2,574. It's where the Texas Hill Country overlaps the rugged beginnings of West Texas. Where the North and South Llano Rivers meet, giving the town its name. Northwest of Kerrville, right up Interstate 10.

One of Junction's longtime, best-known residents is a petite, perky, hardworking redhead named Helen Wallace. Anyone here who doesn't know her doesn't get out enough.

My family had spent two days tent camping at South Llano River State Park just outside town. We fawned over more deer than we've ever seen (cacti and yucca, too), trekked trails and saw scenic vistas both lush and desertlike. We gazed upon the flitting beauty of nature in the park's bird-watching blinds and enjoyed an afternoon of river tubing — all while doing our best to sidestep legions of red harvester ants.

A menu at Isaack Restaurant, which opened in 1950 on Main Street/U.S. Highway 83 in Junction. It's been a longtime favorite of area residents and folks traveling through town. (Frank L. Christlieb / Staff)

We decided to drive into town last Wednesday morning and check out Isaack Restaurant (a.k.a. Isaack's) before packing our U-Haul trailer for the five-hour trip back home to Arlington. As we walked up to the diner on Main Street/U.S. Highway 83, Helen was out front on a smoke break.

A few minutes later, she dropped by our table next to one of the front windows and asked the four of us what she could get us to drink.

We knew from the restaurant's huge throwback neon sign, touting air-conditioned comfort, that the place was a treasure for residents and travelers alike. Before Helen came back with our drinks, I knew she was, too. I asked her what she could tell us about Isaack's history.

"I've been here 50 years, so I know pretty much everything," she said, proudly.

Helen Wallace, 74, has worked as a waitress at Isaack Restaurant in Junction for most of the past 50 years. She moved to town from East Texas in 1965. (Frank L. Christlieb / Staff)

Helen has worked on and off — mostly on — at Isaack's since 1967, two years after marrying a fellow from Junction and moving here from East Texas. This go-round, she's been waiting on patrons for 27 years. A sprightly 74, Helen raised her three kids in Junction.

Jabo Isaack, who was from Louisiana, opened his cafe in 1950 but sold it after a couple of years. Since Helen started, she's worked for five owners — including one of the former waitresses, Jennifer Sides, who bought the restaurant 11 years ago. It's full of vintage metal signs, antiques and knickknacks that give it personality. But I figure a good bit of that really comes from Helen, all 5-foot-2 of her, tops.

The menu is packed with a mix of dishes, including enchiladas, tacos and fajitas, plus sandwiches, salads, seafood and chicken fried steak. Breakfast is served all day starting at 6 a.m.

Helen, with a food stain or two on her white blouse and red apron, took our orders: grilled ham and cheese, turkey/bacon club sandwich, Western omelet, open-face hot roast beef sandwich. And she shared more history with us.

I wanted to know about the cool roadway sign. Classic, old-timey signs, which often long outlast their businesses, have always fascinated me. When you drive through small Texas towns, where folks still work overtime to keep some of their nostalgia intact, you can't miss 'em on the main drag.

Helen told us that Isaack's sign landed a $5,000 makeover a few years back. Its mustachioed chef even got a mechanical left arm so he could beckon to passing motorists. Sadly, his arm stopped moving after two months, our historian/waitress declared, trying to keep from laughing at the thought of it.

Isaack Restaurant still has the original neon sign that went up when it opened 67 years ago. The sign got a makeover a few years back. Pictured are members of Dallas Morning News multiplatform editor Frank L. Christlieb's family. (Frank L. Christlieb / Staff)

We weren't the only ones asking questions — Helen wanted to know about us, too. When we told her we live in Arlington, she brought back a memory of the time years ago when she took her 13-year-old daughter, Brenda, to Six Flags Over Texas.

Helen made us feel far more welcome than the ants working furiously only feet from our cramped, lopsided tent at the state park. She's the face of the warmth and hospitality you'll find in towns off and on the beaten path all over Texas.

The Christlieb family's lunch check as filled out by their waitress, Helen. (Frank L. Christlieb / Staff)

While we were waiting for Helen to bring us lunch, I noticed an older fellow slowly riding a motorcycle past the restaurant. I didn't see him turn into the parking lot. Quickly, Helen was behind the register, helping him pick out a new Isaack's coffee mug — because all the words had faded off the one he bought during a ride through Junction some years back.

We've camped at several state parks in Texas and Oklahoma, but this was our first time at South Llano River. As we left the restaurant, I told Helen we enjoyed our short adventure so much, we'll probably be back next year and would see her then.

"If I'm still here," she said, smiling as I gave her a hug.

Something tells me Helen will be right where we left her. If your travels happen to take you through Junction, you oughta stop by and see her.