The signature achievement of Austin Fashion Week is bringing the city’s style scene together in one place. That happens in dribs and drabs during the opening party, boutique crawls and official Driskill runways. It comes together in the Austin Fashion Awards, the climax of event impresario Matt Swinney’s yearlong plans.

Ron King and Laura Aiden

Instead of the usual categories — designer, photographer, makeup artist, etc. — this year Swinney concentrated on two areas: Trailblazers and Rising Stars. Clever. Dilutes the competitive poison. Salutes the true pioneers — Sue Webber, Patty Hoffpauir, Gail Chovan, etc. — and the newcomers who have made it — Christian Ramirez, Ross Bennett, etc. Great concept, well executed.

Jaslene Gonzalez and Angelique Chandy

Margarita Saplala’s light, smooth, Asian-influenced collection was the highlight of the evening’s runway shows, although I also adored Kendra Scott’s maximalist jewelry. The many, many mash-up teams — artists working together for a photographed look — were of unequal quality. But their fans filled the Austin Music Hall. (Swinney is a businessman, after all.)

Marie Andrée and Seth Lipscomb

Last year, I wrote that ACL Live was a huge improvement on the Long Center for this kind of three-dimensional show. Well, the Music Hall works extremely well, too, at least from where I sat. It looked like the refreshment lines were long during intermission, but that will take a while for the hall’s new management to fix.

After the show, everyone surged toward the doors, only to find an otherwise welcome torrent threatening to ruin a week’s worth of hair, makeup and clothing. Almost everyone retreated back into the hall. We made a dash for it during a lull. I wore nothing that could be ruined by a little rain.

Penny Cedel had the right idea. Five years ago, the wife of Concordia University Texas president Tom Cedel — and a major force on campus — figured that a black-tie gala in August would be considered novel by the social set. And it would kick off the formal season in Austin.

Brian and Catherine King

She was right. The annual event — held right after the board of regents meets and right before the students move onto campus — is now a must-go for social enthusiasts at the Four Seasons Hotel. Especially since the affair plainly, simply and forcefully honors just one singular sensation in the community.

AJ Bingham and Monica Guerrero

This year, it was Reid Ryan, owner of the Round Rock Express and a cluster of other businesses. Besides being an an all-round swell guy — from all I’ve heard and seen — Ryan exemplifies the school’s goal of developing Christian leaders. A roomful of admirers saluted him and his family warmly on Friday. (I took a break from Austin Fashion Week for this early-evening gala.)

Reid and Nicole Ryan

This year, I lucked out again and sat with Tom and Penny during dinner. They are among the most charming and uplifting couples in Austin. I don’t know why they want to spend so much time with me, but I’m always delighted to swap stories with the Cedels and their friends.

Electricity played a silent part in the growth of Deep Eddy in Eilers Park.

Also, in 1902, an electric trolley line stopped at the bathing beach, situated above a rock in the Colorado River that created a dangerous eddy. (The Johnsons dynamited the rock, according to a history written by Hannah Swenson, but the name stuck.)

The Johnsons, who built the nearby house that now serves as the American Legion Post, sold the land to A.J. Eilers, owner of a wholesale goods firm, in 1915.

Partnered with a show biz veteran, Eilers built the concrete pool that opened in 1916, one of the oldest in Texas. Nightly movies and rides fit the carnivalesque atmosphere that included a diving horse and a diving child.

Less than a month after Eilers sold the park to the city in 1935, it flooded, destroying all the buildings and filling the pool with debris. The Depression-era bathhouse with its modern roof — once home to the Austin Natural Science Center — was recently reopened to high praise.

The spring-fed pool is colder than Barton Springs in the winter, but warmer than the more famous body of water in the summer.

Deep Eddy (Eilers Park)

Location: 401 Deep Eddy Ave.

Size: 8 acres

Dedicated: 1935 (opened privately in 1902)

Named for: A.J. Eilers and a dangerous eddy in the Colorado River

Who spends $350,000 for a tiny Fiat?

The money, of course, goes to charity. The Pebble Beach, Cal. auction raised more than $750,000 dollars for Fisher House, which provides services to wounded veterans.

U.S. Secretary of Defense Leon Panetta and Army Chief of Staff General Raymond Odierno were among those cheering on the bids, punched up onstage by Leno himself.

Last year, Leno performed similar duties in Austin during the Cow Parade auction for Dell Children’s Medical Center held at ACL Live.

Former Carillon food and beverage director Daniel Curtis certainly knows how to repay a good deed. Paralyzed in a diving accident, he helped raise money a second time for others who share his condition during a dinner Tuesday at the AT&T Center. His buddies in the food industry contributed the deletable bites and cool drinks.

Josh Watkins and Cash Watkins

Lone Star Paralysis Foundation leader Doug English — former Longhorn and NFL player — affirmed how much of the money goes to intended targets through his lean outfit. For his part, Curtis reminded everyone what a superb treatment center we have in Austin at Seton Brain and Spine Center. Clients of the center mixed casually with guests during proceedings in the freely arranged banquet hall.

Brianna Oberstar and Debbie Saenz

I was struck once again by how generous the food community can be. They often provide refreshments for charity events. Here, the tastes — especially a goat polenta dish from Jack Allen’s Kitchen — topped my list.

Paige Roberts and Alex Hatcher

Yet I see folks like chefs Josh Watkins, David Bull and others helping in other ways at charity events as often as the city’s more traditional benefactors. For instance, they made surprisingly effective auctioneers. It helped that many of the auctioned items wrapped their talents into future shared evenings that sound like pure bliss.

Does anyone in Austin begrudge Kendra Scott her incredible success? She’s Hollywood gorgeous, but grounded by her home life, husband and two boys. She started a business in the spare space at their house, and then hawked the jewelry personally from retail door to retail door.

Holly Tompkins and Natasha Ranjan

Now Scott heads a fashion empire. Her headquarters on South Congress Avenue is always hopping. Her jewelry adorns just about every woman of means in town. (While not exactly bargain basement, some of pieces are way affordable.) And she’s opened shops in Beverly Hills and Dallas. Scott told me she’s been looking for just the right retail outlet in New York City.

Christian Ramirez and Mel Martell

Although her multi-part jewelry has adorned models pictured in dozens of national magazines, Scott is as genuine as ever, at least in public. (Maybe there’s a raving diva side to her personality, but I’ve never sensed that.) Wednesday, her followers gathered reverently to revel in her Fall 2012 collection at the mod SoCo store.

Sofia Avila, Christine Moline and Victoria Avila

It felt like a reunion for Austin Fashion Week, which ended just days before. People on the fashion scene love, love, love their Kendra, who has won two golden boots and sent some elaborate pieces down the runway on Saturday. We spoke to several dozen of the initiated, grateful that the heat has broken and that more shopping loomed on the horizon.

For those born without that gene, judge not, lest …

Just as a legal, ethical and perceptual firestorm raged around Livestrong founder Lance Armstrong, we received a handsome invitation to the foundation’s 15th anniversary gala.

The onstage talent includes heavy hitters like Robin Williams, Norah Jones and Stephen Marley.

Celebrity chefs Richard Blais, Antonia Lofaso, Angelo Sosa and Paul Qui will design and present the menu.

Artists will create an installation live during the evening. An auction will feature works by Ed Ruscha, Dustin Yellin and Patrick Martinez

There is no indication yet that the USADA sanctions will affect the star-studded party or the long-term viability of Austin-based anti-cancer foundation.

Anecdotal evidence from social media and an ongoing, informal poll of Austin leaders suggest that even some of his doubters feel the anti-doping agency went too far.

On another Armstrong fundraising note, the Birthday Bash for the Ann Richards School for Young Women Leaders slated for Sept. 13 at his Mount Bonnell-area house is on.

“We don’t see anything changing,” says Michelle Krejci, director of the school’s foundation. “And we are looking forward to it.”

Stay tuned to statesman.com for the latest.

Ten years ago, Catherine Robb religiously attended events for the LBJ Library and Museum. After all, President Lyndon Johnson and Lady Bird Johnson were her grandparents. Her parents, Lynda Bird Johnson Robb and former Virginia Sen. Charles Robb were married in the White House.

Rico Reyes and Catherine Robb

Yet where were the people her age? Or even her mother’s age? Cognizant of the gap, she helped found the LBJ Future Forum. This group gathers regularly for speakers, exhibits and discussions, while it serves as a kind of proving ground for future library leaders.

Corky Logue and Katy Hackerman

This tribe gathered in the warm glow of dusk at Scholz Garten on Thursday. Tall Bruce Robison sang quietly. Folks munched on fried food and sipped specialty beers. They chatted about the upcoming gala (Dec. 2) and the opening of the completely redesigned historical exhibit at the library (December).

John Heinemann and Sean Tate

Among the assembled, one could spot a few politicos and potential politicos. Yet most people seemed as interested in intellectual stimulation as election news. I met several authors, cooks, benefactors, lawyers and at least one serial entrepreneur. One might guess that this part of the Johnson family legacy is in good hands.

Correction: In an earlier version of this post, Rico Reyes’ last name was wrong.

What a delicious job! On assignment, I’ve heard Elton John sing a full set of songs at an Andy Roddick party. Now I’ve spoken his sometime songwriting partner Bernie Taupin. And I’ve perused his art at the Russell Collection.

Bernie and Heather Taupin

Now a Californian, Taupin paints bold abstracts in a generally sunny manner. Two mixed-material pieces incorporated images from the Texas flag. Others dealt in layers of geometrics.

Autograph and photograph seekers were left to cool their heels outside the gallery.

Chris and Lisa Russell

Despite price tags in the tens of thousands of dollars, they sold well on Friday night. I missed the crush of the early evening, which allowed me to linger, asking questions of gallery owner Lisa Russell, who promises a comprehensive and final sale of Charles Umlauf’s art in the near future (the exhibit has been postponed at the family’s request).

Sumair Daswani and Sangie K

Also met a bottle rocket of a woman from India named Sangie K. She’s about to embark on a new chapter of socializing in Austin. I offered my assistance, as I do to anyone who wants to leave the couch and hit the streets for the best that Austin has to offer.

Roles change. The Wine and Food Foundation of Texas was closely associated in the public’s mind with what has become the Austin Food and Wine Festival. Somehow, I missed how and why that changed exactly.

Nancy Palma and Paul Lueb

The charity, which funds scholarships while putting on educational and entertaining events, remains quite popular with the food and drink tribe. The Tour de Vin on Friday filled the upper quarters of the W Austin’s public spaces. Dozens of restaurants and wineries were represented.

Shelby and Raj Shah

Most memorable to me were bites from Rainey Street newcomers like Banger’s (lots of sausages, so how could you go wrong?) and Tapas Bravas, which touts authentic Spanish food, scarce on the ground in Austin.

Swati Koul and Thien-Y Hoang

My time at the Tour fit into the dwindling hours, as food and drink booths began to close and the staff mingled more easily with the guests. I like that hour. Conversations flowed easily, including several with W employees who headed here to work from all over the country. Wouldn’t you?

He might have a lot yet to learn, but newly named Austin foundation director Jeff Lau exudes competence.

Perhaps it was absorbed while serving as an aide to Gen. Dennis Via, who recently got a fourth star (called a “pip”) snapped onto his shoulder boards.

Or it could come from his two-and-a-half year gig at a Wall Street firm before accepting a plea from a longtime friend to transform his Austin charity.

At any rate, Lau now heads the Andy Roddick Foundation. Previously known for its celebrity dinners — a concert gala with soul singer John Legend is slated for Sept. 21 at ACL Live — the group is evolving from a family-and-volunteer outfit that has given millions to children’s charities to one that directly mentors young people through sports.

Today, the tennis star and his childhood rival announced plans to convert an East Austin building into a youth center with eight courts where tennis will be used to teach character and discipline, a mission similar to that of the golf charity First Tee.

Upright and trim, Lau, 31, speaks with the crisp fluency and alert precision that one hears in leaders such as retired Gen. Colin Powell and, yes, President Barack Obama.

Born in Iowa City, Iowa, he arrived in Texas at age 2. His father, Steve Lau, a pharmacist at Seton Northwest, grew up in Hong Kong and studied at the University of Texas. His mother, Tina Yeh Lau, an accountant at Level 3 Communications, moved with her family to Taiwan when the communists took over China.

His only brother, Justin Lau, is preparing for his third tour of duty in Afghanistan as an Air Force pilot. How did both sons of immigrants land in the U.S. military?

“I think it’s more an accident,” the older brother say s. “We are close and he saw me go through West Point. It opened his eyes.”

By his own account, Jeff Lau was a hardworking, outgoing kid whose parents assigned summer homework. Still, he played a lot of tennis. He first encountered Roddick at age 9 during a Caswell Tennis Center tourney.

“I lost,” he says. “To my great disappointment.” Under coaches Jack Newman and Eric Schmidhauser at St. Stephen’s, Lau rose to the top 15 in the state for his age group.

“I was a power player,” he recalls. “An aggressive baseline player. Not the type to run around the court all day waiting for the opponent to make a mistake. I’d force things to happen.”

Lau was recruited by several Ivy League schools but selected the Military Academy for several reasons.

“My parents always had a deep reverence for West Point,” he says. “I was highly encouraged to visit. Which I did. And that changed my entire outlook.”

What he noticed most about that campus visit was the transformed youth.

“You saw men just a couple of years older than me — their posture, firm handshakes, eye contact,” he says “There was a guy I played tennis with in Texas and I stayed with him. … It was stunning what 12 months at West Point did for him. The changes in him were changes I wanted in me.”

Nothing in his Austin youth prepared him for the first days there.

“It was like getting hit by a ton of bricks,” he recalls. “No matter how much you thought you knew was coming, you are not prepared for it.” Lau’s identity was reshaped around four responses: “Yes, sir.” “No, sir.” “No excuse, sir.” “Sir/ma’am, I don’t understand.”

“You get a quick lesson in accountability,” he says. “So you become part of the solution.”

Lau finished in the top 15 percent of his class, so he “chose his own adventure.” In January 2003, he selected communications in Germany, which eventually put him under the command of Gen. Via.

“That was my real MBA, watching him every single day for 22 months,” he says. “To be the CEO of a 5,000-person organization with a footprint across dozens of countries.”

Harvard Business School built out his skills. His most memorable professor was Clayton Christensen, who promoted the theory of disruptive innovation.

“I discovered why juggernaut companies find themselves on the defensive and eventually obsolete,” he says. The MBA led to the mergers and acquisitions wing of a Wall Street firm.

“These transactions change business and industries forever,” he says. “I had learned a whole lot about Wall Street but ultimately found it unfulfilling. I really wanted to help build things.”

By a stroke of luck, Roddick called about running his foundation.

“He wanted to make it one that has the direct impact on children whose life arc you can still affect,” Lau says. “ He wants to create an institution that, if well built, will outlive him.”

In at least one place, Austinites gathered as one.

And since 1914, their survivors have gathered in the Oakwood Cemetery Chapel.

This little Gothic Revival gem was designed by Charles H. Page, the famed architect whose father worked on the construction of the State Capitol.

With brother Louis Page, he designed several Austin landmarks, including the Littlefield Building (1911) and the Travis County Courthouse (1936).

Page donated his design and construction skills to the chapel project.

According to a report written by Leslie Wolfenden, the Cemetery Association of Austin, headed by Mrs. Mary E. Mitchell, headed the drive for the chapel.

Remodeled in 1944 by another prominent architect, J. Roy White, it still rises on Main Avenue on the formally divided grounds.

The cemetery itself is worth several chapters of Austin Untold Stories, but suffice it to say that the deteriorating chapel now needs help.

Save Austin’s Cemeteries has teamed with the Austin Parks and Recreation Department to raise the dollars needed to do it right.

Oakwood Cemetery Chapel

Location: Main Avenue

Dedicated: 1914

NOTE: If you have any information about the St. John’s Orphanage that stood where Highland Mall is now, please contact me.

Food blogger Laura Kelso did it just right. On Dishola, a site she co-founded, she reviewed food by the dish.

She built a clean, clear, concise brand. She promoted and maintained it consistently, earning respect from the food community while attracting a broad readership.

Paula Biehler, Laura Kelso and Stephanie Bergeron

Now, a big company wants to pay her for it. AllRecipes has hired Kelso, so she’s moving to Seattle to write about food in another socially engaged city.

Not that she’s a stranger to the wider job market. Recall that the Brown University graduate has also contributed Travel + Leisure, Southern Living, Discovery Channel, Texas Monthly, Austin Woman, and the American-Statesman. She’s created community content for HomeAway and serial fiction site DishLit.

Matt Vestal and Susan Leibrock

This is the modern career path for journalists. Build your brands. Feed your readers. And eventually, somebody will pay you good money to do what you already love doing.

Luckily, given the internet, anyone with enough talent, rigor and discipline can follow this path.

Lisa O’Neill, Kate Lowery and Denise Clarke

Kelso’s friends in the food tribe gathered at Malverde for a private farewell party on Tuesday. We shared deep, newsy dish. Expect three or four columns to grow out of those insider stories.

Best to Laura in her newest life role.

When Jack Long wanted to start a business, he didn’t summon a creative staff, pick synergistic teams and lead brainstorming sessions.

“I went to my little office,” Long says with a gentle, endearingly goofy smile. “I put on my thinking cap to think, think, think.”

He has started at least two booming businesses and one admired charity while passing along his wisdom to students at the Acton School of Business and flying his jet for worthy causes.

Where’s the oversized personality that usually goes with such signal achievements?

Sitting across a smooth, round table inside the trimly corporate Atlantic Aviation building, Long looks more like the amiable dad who heads up the church picnic than a captain of industry.

Born in Knoxville, Tenn., Long was a shy kid and something of a slacker in high school. “I was a terrible introvert,” he says. “Still am. But introverts can power through and be extroverted when they need to be.”

During his third year at the University of Richmond, a secular liberal arts college in Richmond, Virginia, the light blinked on.

“Once I got to business classes, it all changed,” he says. “My wife calls me a late bloomer.”

One influential professor engineered his late entry into the Vanderbilt University graduate business program. That’s where he met his wife, Carolyn Adams Long.

Here’s how nondescript Jack Long was in youth: He and his wife actually attended the same Tennessee middle school. “She can remember every other student except me,” he jokes.

The couple worked in the banking sector in Nashville and Houston. They scrimped and saved so that once Carolyn Long landed a secure job, her husband could take time off to “think, think, think.”

“I always had an entrepreneurial drive,” Jack Long says. “My wife says it’s because I’m not a team player.”

Long went through several business ideas before coming up with Lone Star Overnight. He started the miniature Federal Express with Gary Gunter, a fellow Southwest Airlines groupie who applied that company’s regional strategy — skipping the hub-and-spoke system — to package delivery.

The business partners raised money in $25,000 chunks, then planted the service in Austin and shipped their first package in 1991.

Lone Star got off to a rocky start, but customers loved it. After three rounds of capitalizing, it broke even in less than two years and has made a profit every month since then, Long says. He sold his Lone Star interests in 1997.

After a hated stint as CFO for a larger company, Long tried to ride the dot-com boom with a home-delivery grocery company. His next move, however, triumphed. He started PeopleAdmin, which provides software for college human resources departments.

“They were still doing everything on paper and by committee,” he says. “They were wearing out copy machines. They were drowning in paper.”

In 2000, he put all his chips in PeopleAdmin, which ended up being used in more than 600 colleges and universities. In August 2008, he sold 70 percent of his interest in that start-up. But he couldn’t stop.

“It’s just too much fun starting new companies,” he says, with the look of a kid eyeing the latest toy.

When the Longs bet on Lone Star, they quit their jobs, had their first child, moved to Austin, bought their first house and started a new business over the course of seven or eight months. They live in a Pemberton Heights house, and their two children are in college.

Carolyn, who started volunteering 22 years ago, is the outgoing chairwoman of the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center board of directors.

Both are involved with St. Stephens Episcopal School, the Nature Conservancy of Texas and Breakthrough Austin, which helps out low-income students who will be the first in their families to attend college.

The couple started Emerging Scholars as a link for highly motivated students between Breakthrough Austin and St. Stephen’s.

“A lot of kids’ families look at college costing $50,000 and prep $20,000 and they say: ‘There’s no way we can afford it, so why should we even try?’ ” Long says. “We talk to sixth-graders and tell them: ‘There’s going to be a lot of work before you cross the stage graduating for college. But if you are willing to work hard, money won’t be a problem.’ ”

The Longs completely funded the first phase and just raised $3 million for the second phase. “It’s probably the most rewarding thing we have ever done,” he says, grateful that others contributors agree. “If something is a good idea, other people should be able to support it.”

What about the teaching gig? He’d always heard that entrepreneurship could not be taught.

An investor introduced Long to Jeff Sandefer, the businessman who expanded the University of Texas MBA program to train entrepreneurs in the late 1990s.

As has been recorded often elsewhere, Sandefer and his colleagues, who taught by the case-based method, left UT in 2001 and started Acton in 2003. Sandefer later advised Gov. Rick Perry on possible radical changes to higher education.

“Introverts are not natural case method teachers,” Long admits. “It’s difficult for me. We teach cases in all different industries, so I get to learn a lot. I think we make a big difference in students lives.”

If all that were not enough, he volunteers to fly emergency services to crisis areas like Haiti and transports rare animals to breed. He’s also taking one course per semester in astrophysics at UT.

“I’m hoping to graduate at the same time as our daughter,” he says “My biggest problem in life is feeling guilty about how lucky I’ve been.”

In case you missed my column in Real magazine on Friday:

Austin high life returns to top form in September.

Broadway stars Bernadette Peters and Brian Stokes Mitchell headline two matched affairs, one of them black-tie, staged by party potentates Bobbi, Wendy and Kelly Topfer.

Ballet Austin selected a Nutcracker theme for the two-part Fête and Fêt*ish (Sept. 21, Driskill Hotel), always one of the most glamorous galas of the season.

A few blocks away on the same night, the Andy Roddick Foundation Gala (Sept. 21, ACL Live) welcomes dreamy singer John Legend, while Tribeza Style Week (Sept. 21-28, various locations) kicks off its run of fashion shows and other diversions with a kicky party.

Need more high style? Head to Fashion’s Night Out (Sept. 6, various locations), part of a national apparel blowout.

We won’t reveal the exact street address of the Ann Richards School Birthday Bash (Sept. 13, private residence), but suffice it to say the manse belongs to a famous man no stranger to endurance sports.

Go patriotic with a presidential theme at the Jewel Ball (Sept. 22, Palmer Events Center), a debutante dance from the Women’s Symphony League.

One of Austin’s preferred arty parties and silent auctions is the Red Hot Red Dot (Sept. 13, Women & Their Work), while the museum season opens with the Director’s Dinner (Sept. 13, Blanton Museum of Art).

Some great back-to-back party themes: the Art of Giving Gala (Sept. 22, Hilton Austin) for the American Diabetes Association and the Big Give (Sept. 23, Driskill Hotel) for I Live Here I Give Here.

Season these philanthropic affairs with the Nonprofit Excellence Awards (Sept. 20, AT&T Center) during the Texas Nonprofit Summit, and then the Easter Seals Central Texas 75th Anniversary Concert (Sept. 28, Shoal Crossing).

Public festivals return in full force during the fall. Two of the top choices are the Texas Tribune Festival (Sept. 21-23, AT&T Center) and the Austin Pride Parade and Festival (Sept. 22, Fiesta Gardens and downtown Austin).

Have you wondered how all these charities afford the creative promotional videos featured during just about any gala?

Find out at the Lights. Camera. Help. Festival (Sept. 12-14, various locations), which showcases the work of budding filmmakers who illuminate those helping others.

In case you missed this profile I wrote for Friday’s Real magazine.

One inescapable fact about the Guadalupe neighborhood: It rests atop a steep hill. In fact, this high point on the wooded prairie is also known as Robertson Hill, named for Dr. Joseph W. Robertson, who purchased the land around the French Legation in 1848. His descendants lived here for almost 100 years. At least one street, Lydia, still bears a family member’s name.

By the 20th century, the hill had became a magnet for African Americans, who moved here in greater numbers after the 1928 urban plan proposed segregating them in East Austin. A lively district evolved around East 11th and San Bernard streets, home to nightspots like the Royal Club, Victory Grill and Paradise Inn.

Robertson Hill School, the city’s first black high school, was built not far from Ebenezer Baptist Church, a community cornerstone on East 10th Street. It later moved north and east as L.C. Anderson High School, named for an early Austin educator. Eventually the name graced an integrated school in Northwest Hills.

In the 1950s, when nearly rural East Avenue was replaced with the concrete blockade that is Interstate 35, the social isolation of Guadalupe’s blacks and Hispanics increased. Yet kindness to newcomers remained customary.

“When I moved into the neighborhood 26 years ago, I was alone for a few months while my wife finished her degree in Colorado,” says Mark Rogers, now director of the Guadalupe Neighborhood Development Corp., which builds and manages affordable housing in the area. “Within weeks, a neighbor brought me a pineapple upside-down cake and later another brought me caldo de pollo.”

A historian by training, Rogers listened carefully to old-timers like the Rev. Harris, Willis Jackson and Mauro Renteria.

“It wasn’t long before I realized I was living in a very small town a few blocks from the Capitol in the capital city of Texas,” Rogers says. “I was told to watch what I said because nearly everyone in the neighborhood was related to someone else in the neighborhood.”

“It was livable magic,” he says, “with all of the ingredients for a socially vital area within walking distance to downtown. I imagined it was on the verge of an economic explosion. Thankfully that did not happen. And when it did, it was many years later and, thankfully, fell short of an explosion. The neighborhood was filled with families that had lived there for many generations.”

Two historic sites and two historic churches serve as cultural anchors. The French Legation is well-documented as Austin’s oldest home. It was the residence of the self-styled Count de Saligny, chargé d’affaires for France during the Texas Republic.

The Texas State Cemetery to the east is the final resting place for the state’s luminaries. Once neglected, it is now nicely landscaped and makes for a meditative retreat amid the urban bustle.

Ebenezer Baptist, organized in 1875, has been a community rock ever since. Led by Pastor Marvin C. Griffin since 1969, it has operated on the forefront of several waves of social change.

Only a few blocks away is Our Lady of Guadalupe Catholic Church, the area’s namesake. Located in 1907 in the “Mexican” district downtown by Republic Square, it headed to East Austin during the social displacements of the 1920s. Parishioners carried the bell, which hung in the city’s first fire station, and other parts of the church up the hill in a procession.

For purposes of this story, we considered some retail zones below the hill — all the way to East Fifth Street — as part of Guadalupe, too. This area and East 11th Street have seen the most radical changes on the east side in the past few decades. Some landmarks — Green & White Grocery, Victory Grill, Longbranch Inn — survive, but they are used differently.

Suzie Phyler’s father took over the Green & White Grocery from her grandfather. Her oldest brother, John, is now in charge. Several generations of her family were born, raised and married within blocks of the store. “These grounds are sacred to me and my husband,” Phyler says.

Recently, the southern retail/industrial quadrant has been transformed into a red hot center of Austin hipster culture. Restaurants, bars, coffee shops and artist studios have mushroomed alongside food trailers, hair boutiques and shops. Among the city’s most popular new eateries: Buenos Aires, Franklin Barbecue, East Side Show Room and Takoba.

Though many residents welcome these amenities, others have not been as happy with larger developments, such as the outsized apartment complexes located in the area’s northwest zone. As with any core Austin neighborhood, residents must deal with rising property taxes as well as litter, parking, traffic and petty crime related to nearby entertainment districts.

“Weekend revelry can be a pain,” Gina Fuentes says. “Especially for those neighbors closer to the French Legation. Noise can be an issue sometimes. Not sure why music has to be so loud anyway, but we can hear it from East Sixth Street.”

Some residents see the area exchanging one urban ill for another. “It used to be drug dealers and prostitutes who mainly stayed on or near East 11th Street,” Rogers says. “Now we have home invasions, smash and grabs and occasional assaults on the streets late at night. That was very rare until about five or six years ago.”

One of the bright spots is the use of the area’s many alleyways for new small homes.

“I often say that our alleys are more interesting for walks than most streets in Austin,” Hatch says. “I am working to try to help transform these wonderful parts of our neighborhood into romantic narrow streets like many of us have had the good fortune to have visited in Europe.”

Hatch says that islands of affordable housing in older neighborhoods serve as “forts” against rising property values, and thus taxes.

“Developers came into the area and saw cheap land and fueled development fights that pushed neighbors against each other,” Rogers says. “Sadly this division sometimes was perceived to fall along racial lines with African Americans as pro-development and the Hispanic community as anti-development.”

Despite the kindness one witnesses all around Guadalupe, anyone making changes can be viewed with some suspicion these days, even if they are trying to preserve the essential character of the area. Others take a pragmatic stance.

“All neighborhoods in every part of Austin require ongoing investment, mostly by younger newcomers with money and energy,” says David West, who has spent 28 years fixing up an 1884 Victorian house. “Otherwise housing stock deteriorates, longtime residents move out, and housing stock is torn down.”

Interactive by Rob Villalpando

It is possible to purchase a classy drink and snack after the game.

Hopfields’ drink chef Carter Wilsford and I watched a chunk of the Longhorns-Cowboys mixed blessing at Trudy’s Texas Star.

Nothing has changed here since my grad school days in the 1980s, except that it’s busier than ever, mobile devices connect the harried staff and the salsa is measurably hotter and tastier.

Prior to that, we dropped by the L Style G Style launch party for its September/October issue at Spider House’s event center on West 29th Street.

Cynthia Massery and Monica Ross

This big-boned place has evolved. With its baroque curtains and sculptures, it feels more permanent, less improvised. Also decidedly theatrical.

The LGBT magazine, by the way, is handsome as ever. Next issue, leaders Alisa Weldon and Lynn Yeldell will expand coverage and distribution to Houston and Dallas as well. Quite the leap!

After the football fun, Wilsford directed me to fresh spot — Cherry Street on Lavaca Street. Filling the former Hog Island Deli location, this cafe and bar feels bright and brisk, but comfy and reassuring.

I asked the bartender, formerly a fixture on West Fourth Street, to make something creative with bourbon. He returned with a Manhattan-like drink that delivered just the right measure of sourness and hint of sweetness. Very grown up.

Fred Pitcher and Zach Gonzales

Liking it, I sent two of these unnamed cocktails over to Kara and Matt Swinney of Do512 and Austin Fashion Week. When first spotted across the room, I thought admiringly: “The Swinneys are so minutely alert to nightlife news.”

Turns out Cherry Street was where they parked their car during the game. They didn’t know the eatery and drinkery was only four hours old.

Next we headed east, which swims with activity these nights. At hyper-hip Hillside Farmacy on East 11th Street, we absorbed the glory of meticulously decorated former drugstore, even more evocative at night.

We switched to light white wines as we lingered over briny oysters from British Columbia and Rhode Island. I foolishly scooped some horseradish onto my tongue. Learned that lesson. Again.

Was glad to note that, deep into the evening, the customers mix was more varied than expected. Hillside is not just for hipsters.

Wilsford led us to another gem: Cantina El Milamores, the inviting bar behind Takoba, that mecca for interior Mexican cuisine on East Seventh Street. It specializes in “mezcales and sotoles,” so I tasted a tantalizing Summer Sotol cooled by a single block of ice.

Simone Sebastian and Peter Holley

Among the clientele, who gathered around a mural that vibrated with South of the Border images, were post-game revelers and upscale visitors from Latin America. (Has anyone else noticed a spike in out-of-state and out-of-country license plates recently? And we are nowhere near the influx for the ACL Music Festival and F1 races.)

Far East Sixth Street buzzed with saloons new and old, including some throbbing with live music. I don’t want to suggest that the street life here approximates East Sixth proper or even West Sixth. Yet it is now an even more distinctive zone with continuous streams of nightlife.

We escaped the big crowds to light on East Cesar Chavez. There we tested Weather Up in the old Shuck Shack spot (which was one of Bridget Dunlap’s few flops). A colony of the Brooklyn, N.Y. bar of the same name, this retreat is decorated with urban tiles set in small barrel vaults, rather like a subway station.

Hundreds of ingredients crowd the bar. One may choose from a drink booklet, logically organized by major spirits, or from a short seasonal list. I had no choice but to try the Satan Cocktail, also not unlike a Manhattan, climaxed by a small, dark, thoroughly soaked marischino cherry (not one of those plump, sweet things they sell in stores).

This place rivals Midnight Cowboy on East Sixth for elevated cocktail ritual and consummations devoutly to be wished. Weather Up doesn’t require reservations, but go when the tide of pilgrims has receded. Indoor and outdoor seating is limited.

Need a retirement project? Follow the example of Isamu Taniguchi.

From the Wakayama Prefecture near Osaka, Japan, Taniguchi had studied botany, agriculture and bonzai grafting before immigrating to California. Interned along with 120,000 other Japanese Americans during World War II, he landed in the Rio Grande Valley and stayed to grow cotton and vegetables.

He retired to Austin in 1967 to join his son, Alan Taniguchi, an architecture professor at the University of Texas, also an internee as a young man, and later a civic leader whose ideas helped shape downtown.

As a gift to his host city, the 70-year-old man personally carved a Japanese garden — with little assistance and no pay — out of the tough limestone of Zilker Park. It opened at the Zilker Botanical Gardens in 1969. Before his death in 1992, he oversaw the retreat’s growth and expansion.

A meditative maze of trails, bridges and ponds amid mostly indigenous plants and stones, the garden that bears Taniguchi’s name includes a Japanese tea house given by an orchid society and a friendship gate from Austin’s sister city of Oita, Japan.

If you are fond of delicate Japanese maples, go there in the fall, when they shimmer. Note that ponds in the garden’s oldest section form the a stylized ideogram for “Austin.”

ISAMU TANIGUCHI JAPANESE GARDEN

Where: 2200 Barton Springs Road

Acres: 3

Dedicated: 1969 Named for: Isamu Taniguchi

Each age discovers its own O. Henry.

Or for that matter, its own William Sydney Porter, the real name of the short story writer who lived a turbulent life, a slice of it in Austin.

Sept. 11 marks Porter’s 150th birthday.

In 1884, he landed in Austin and worked for a time as a draftsman at the General Land Office, the 1857 building that now serves as the Capitol Visitors Center.

Later, while a teller at the First National Bank of Austin, Porter was accused of embezzlement. He jumped bail and fled to New Orleans then to Honduras.

When he learned that his first wife, Athol Estes Porter, was seriously ill, Porter returned to face trial in what is now O. Henry Hall, part of the University of Texas System complex on West Sixth Street. He left Austin a federal prisoner in 1898.

Before his death in 1910, Porter chanced upon more adventures, which became fodder for his playful stories. In his honor, the Austin History Center, the O. Henry Museum and the Capitol Visitors Center have mounted exhibits about author’s complicated life.

On Sept. 15, the public is invited to “crawl” among the three sites — all within fairly easy walking distance of one another — for historical displays and special events. (A shuttle will also be available.)

At 4 p.m., the history center, for instance, stages a mock appeals trial for Porter. The public will serve as jury.

We asked the curators at the three locations — Mike Miller, Kyle Schlafer and Michael Hoinski — to provide some O. Henry trivia, fun facts that readers might not already know.

Porter earned $100 a month as a draftsman at the General Land Office from 1887 to 1891. That translates into almost $30,000 a year in today’s dollars.

Porter met his future wife on March 2, 1885 at a dance that followed the laying of the Capitol’s cornerstone. As part of a souvenir packet, she had placed a locket of her hair in the cornerstone.

Porter and Estes — she was only 17 at the time — eloped to the Smoot House at 1316 West Sixth St. The best way to view this sprawling, tree-shrouded mansion from the curb is turn right off West Sixth onto Pressler Street and get out there, noting the parking signs.

Porter and his friend Eugene Bremond Robinson held a contest to see who could grow the longest mustache.

Porter purchased stale bread from the Old Bakery at 1006 Congress Ave. to use as pencil erasers.

• He played stringed instruments and sang deep bass in the Hill City Quartette, a serenading parlor band.

• Porter and his wife performed in the Gilbert & Sullivan Society. One performance of “H.M.S. Pinafore” took place on a steamship on the Colorado River. The ship started to sink and the cast helped the audience off the boat to safety.

He hung around the Bismarck Saloon and carved a notch in his favorite table there.

Porter was a gifted artist. One potential patron offered to pay for him to study art in New York or Paris.

Porter once went on a state-sanctioned treasure hunt, which inspired one of his stories. A land office document supposedly pinpointed the location of the Lost Bowie Silver Mine. Porter and a co-worker spent a couple months scouring the Hill Country, but never found the mine.

Porter served as lieutenant in the local militia company, the Austin Grays, and as a corporal in the Texas Guard unit the Texas Rifles. As part of the second group, he was sent to Fort Worth to guard a railroad depot during a railroad strike.

O. Henry 150th Birthday Crawl

When: Noon-5 p.m. Sept. 15

Where: Capitol Visitors Center, 112 E. 11th St.; O. Henry Museum, 408 E. Fifth St.; Austin History Center, 810 Guadalupe St.

Zach Theatre is passing up no chances to toast its new Topfer Theatre. Last week, artistic director Dave Steakley rolled out energetic snippets from upcoming shows on its large, very live stage. Later this month, matching galas will welcome Broadway stars Bernadette Peters and Brian Stokes Mitchell to the same stage.

Elisbeth Challener and Terry Lickona

Wednesday, backers and guests mixed casually in the Topfer lobby before hearing about the first honorees who will be lionized in the unfinished People’s Plaza. Don’t expect to see the actual pillars or the giant touch screen emblazoned with their names until March 2013. By then, the theater might release a second or third round of honors.

Berry Crowley, Kirk Watson and Liz Watson

The first seven luminaries were easy choices: Late first lady Lady Bird Johnson, cyclist and anti-cancer crusader Lance Armstrong, deceased Gov. Ann Richards, Texas Sen. Kirk Watson, ACL wizard Terry Lickona, much-laureled musician Ray Benson and business rainmaker Gary Farmer.

Linda Richards and Ellen Richards

I’m pleased to report that Zach leaders remind their audiences frequently that the new stage is named for much-missed diva Karen Kuykendall, the auditorium for superstar benefactor James Armstrong and the whole shebang for Mort and Bobbi Topfer.

Never tire of those names.