A couple crossed Austin Avenue on their way to the Waco Hippodrome Theatre downtown earlier this month. (Smiley N. Pool/Staff Photographer)

Waco: An odd marriage of terrible and trendy HGTV’s popular ‘Fixer Upper’ and its owners’ Magnolia market are helping the city move past the Branch Davidian siege and a fatal biker brawl. This city has a past so checkered that Texas country music legends Billy Joe Shaver and Willie Nelson immortalized it in a song, “Wacko from Waco.” “I guess livin’ down in Waco made a wacko outta me,” the song goes. This is where a judge once killed two brothers in the street. It’s where the Branch Davidian siege ended in a lethal fireball. It’s the place where a shootout between rival biker gangs and police last year left nine people dead and 18 injured. And where Shaver was acquitted of aggravated assault after shooting a knife-wielding man in the face in self-defense. But stand in the right parts of Waco, and a cool factor emerges. The ultra-popular HGTV show Fixer Upper showcases Waco to the nation and fills its revitalized downtown with tourists and food trucks. A new national monument on the site of the discovery of a family of mammoths brings prestige and science on a global level. The world’s largest Baptist college, Baylor University, houses the largest collection of black gospel music in the world. Waco, circa 2016, is a study in dichotomies; the town’s intriguing marriage of the terrible and deadly to the fashionable and intriguing. That’s why Robert Darden’s heart sank when he first heard reports last May 17 of the shootout at Twin Peaks restaurant. The longtime Baylor journalism professor moved here as a student in 1972 and wrote a book about the 1993 Branch Davidian raid. “Ah man, really? We were making such progress,” Darden thought at the time. “You don’t see this in Wichita Falls or Plano, or you don’t see Midland or Beaumont in the news. It’s Waco. “And all around the world, you can say Waco and people automatically have images. I think, now, there’s more Fixer Upper than David Koresh. “But like we say, ‘What’s next; what are we going to overcome?’”


Biker confrontation just the latest Twin Peaks closed shortly after the skirmish between the Cossacks and Bandidos biker gangs. Signs warn that the vacant building is under surveillance. A McLennan County grand jury indicted more than 150 bikers, accusing them of engaging in organized crime. They face up to life in prison, and defense attorneys complain that all the indictments look alike, regardless of what role prosecutors believe the bikers played in the shooting. No trial dates have been set, and evidence still needs to be tested. The judge issued a gag order in one of the cases, making many involved — prosecutors and defense attorneys — apply it to the other cases. A legal fight lies ahead as defense attorneys challenge the indictments, the investigation and whether trials should even be held here. Left: The Twin Peaks restaurant in Waco, where a shootout last May between rival biker gangs left nine people dead and 18 injured, has been closed since shortly after the confrontation. Signs warn that the vacant building is under surveillance. A grand jury indicted more than 150 bikers, but no trial dates have been set. (Smiley N. Pool/Staff Photographer) Right: Authorities investigated the site the day after the Twin Peaks shootings. (Rose Baca/Staff Photographer) Top: The Twin Peaks restaurant in Waco, where a shootout last May between rival biker gangs left nine people dead and 18 injured, has been closed since shortly after the confrontation. Signs warn that the vacant building is under surveillance. A grand jury indicted more than 150 bikers, but no trial dates have been set. (Smiley N. Pool/Staff Photographer) Bottom: Authorities investigated the site the day after the Twin Peaks shootings. (Rose Baca/Staff Photographer) The shootout was just the latest instance of mayhem and chaos to focus unwanted national attention on Waco. Ten years after the Branch Davidian episode, a Baylor basketball player shot and killed a teammate after an argument. The ensuing scandal led to the resignation of the coach and probation for the team. And in 1982, three teenagers were murdered at Lake Waco in a high-profile case that saw one man executed for the crime, two others imprisoned and a fourth claiming he was wrongly accused. So, why Waco? Perhaps because it’s smack dab between Austin and Dallas and right off Interstate 35. Maybe because the town has always welcomed strangers. Or maybe it’s something in the part of the Brazos River that runs through town. ‘The cult and the fireball’ Nick Perkins’ gray Nikes kicked at a clump of concrete in the freshly mowed green grass where the Branch Davidian compound once stood. The concrete is a visible reminder that something awful happened here in April 1993. This is where, as the world watched, the building burned after a 51-day standoff between Koresh, his followers and law enforcement. In the end, more than 80 people died, including children and federal agents. Left: Nick Perkins (right) and Andrew Paulus, pilots who recently flew seven women from Kansas to check out Magnolia Market at the Silos in Waco, explored the Mount Carmel site of the Branch Davidians' 1993 standoff with federal officials. "When you think about Waco," Perkins said, "you think about the cult and the fireball." (Smiley N. Pool/Staff Photographer) Right: The compound burned after a 51-day standoff between David Koresh's followers and authorities. More than 80 people died, including children and federal agents. (Irwin Thompson/Staff Photographer) Top: Nick Perkins (right) and Andrew Paulus, pilots who recently flew seven women from Kansas to check out Magnolia Market at the Silos in Waco, explored the Mount Carmel site of the Branch Davidians' 1993 standoff with federal officials. "When you think about Waco," Perkins said, "you think about the cult and the fireball." (Smiley N. Pool/Staff Photographer) Bottom: The compound burned after a 51-day standoff between David Koresh's followers and authorities. More than 80 people died, including children and federal agents. (Irwin Thompson/Staff Photographer) “That’s original concrete,” Perkins said recently under a picturesque blue Texas sky. “We’re standing on it.” “That’s eerie,” said Andrew Paulus, who stood next to him, his eyes fixed on the ground. Perkins and Paulus, pilots from Kansas, flew seven women to town to explore Magnolia Market at the Silos, owned by Fixer Upper hosts Chip and Joanna Gaines. The men didn’t want to shop or stay at the hotel, though. They checked out the darker side of Waco. First up was Twin Peaks. But the best stop is here at Mount Carmel, where today’s Branch Davidians live on a communal property with a smattering of mobile homes. The gates are often open but signs warn it’s private property. Donkeys, chickens and barking dogs roam the place, surrounded by cow pastures and ponds. Stones and coins rest atop a monument memorializing the dead Branch Davidians. The marker lists each dead Branch Davidian by name. It sits near the gate but the front faces away from the road. The pilots wondered if a flagless flagpole in front of a new chapel was the same one they’d seen in pictures, the same images burned into our collective memory. “When you think about Waco, you think about the cult and the fireball,” Perkins said. McLennan County Sheriff Parnell McNamara grew up in and around Waco. He’s always had a tangential connection to the Branch Davidians. His father, a former U.S. marshal, drove him past the place when the sheriff was a child and said people there were waiting for the end times. It scared him. As a U.S. marshal at the time of the standoff, he’d gotten to know Koresh. “He was a street punk, that’s all he was,” McNamara said. “Just a child molester and a worthless rat.” The sheriff and Darden, like most residents, pointed out that the compound isn’t actually in the city limits. But the world labeled it Waco long ago. Even the current group of Branch Davidians proclaims the debacle “WACO” on pamphlets.

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