It’s about two hours into our drive back from Port Aransas — a late-summer holiday to the Texas coast — when we stop to fuel up our rented white minivan. Looking across what can generously be called the Pettus skyline, I spot the lights, easy to see considering they’re by far the tallest structure in this town of 558 residents. As my wife, sons and in-laws return to the vehicle, I inform them that I’m cashing in my credit, Dad’s one opportunity to detour.

We make our way across town, turning off the smoothly paved state highway and onto the more rough-and-tumble local roads, and pull into the parking lot of James V. Beauchamp Stadium, nestled alongside the stone-covered Pettus High School.

Beauchamp Stadium isn’t one of those hulking Texas high school football stadiums that makes “The Today Show.” It’s modest by Texas standards, a 1,235-capacity set of bleachers on either side of pristine turf, flanked on either end by brilliant maroon and gold end zones, the colors of the homestanding War Eagles.

The stadium is empty, the heat radiating off the turf. It’s quiet.