Photo by Lindsay Caudle, TexAgs
The Temperature of Aggieland: A conversation with Ol' Sarge
February 11, 2016
3,878
He walked across the TexAgs parking lot with a confident stride and an intimidating presence.
His wore a crisp khaki uniform. His tie was tucked into a starched shirt that could not conceal his barrel chest. Biceps bulged under sleeves that were adorned with three stripes. The sun reflected off his spit-shined black shoes.
He politely removed his hat upon entering the building. That, predictably, revealed his buzz cut.
I greeted him with an outstretched right hand.
His wore a crisp khaki uniform. His tie was tucked into a starched shirt that could not conceal his barrel chest. Biceps bulged under sleeves that were adorned with three stripes. The sun reflected off his spit-shined black shoes.
He politely removed his hat upon entering the building. That, predictably, revealed his buzz cut.
I greeted him with an outstretched right hand.
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