Introduction
FOREVER STRAIT: TEXAS JUST GAVE THE KING HIS OWN CORNER OF FORT WORTH
The intersection of 4th & Congress in downtown Fort Worth no longer belongs to the city.
From this moment on, it belongs to one man:
George Strait.
Under a flawless October sky, the King of Country arrived the only way George Strait ever would — wearing his iconic black Resistol, perfectly pressed Wranglers, and that quiet, effortless smile that’s been melting hearts since 1981.
City officials pulled back the cover and revealed the monument: a towering six-foot bronze-green wall, crowned with a single Texas star, his name stretching across it in letters bold enough to be seen from three blocks away.
GEORGE STRAIT.
Behind him, hundreds of fans erupted the moment he stepped forward. Some had been camped out since sunrise, lawn chairs set, Yetis packed with Shiner, ready to witness history.
Grown women cried openly.
Grown men suddenly had “dust in their eyes.”
And a few old cowboys simply tipped their hats and whispered, “That’s the King, boys.”
George took the mic for just 47 seconds — because of course he did — delivering a line only he could make iconic:
“I never set out to have my name on anything but a guitar pick and an album cover.
But if Fort Worth wants to waste perfectly good bronze on an old South Texas boy… I reckon I’ll let ’em.”
He grinned, gave that familiar two-finger salute — the same one he’s ended every show with for four decades — then walked off as the crowd broke into an a cappella chorus of “Amarillo By Morning.”
The wall will stand forever.
And so will the feeling in that moment.
Some legends pretend to be cowboys.
George Strait is one.
And now Texas has carved it in bronze so the whole world never forgets.
Forever the King.
Forever Texas.
Forever Strait.