What makes a show about everyday Texans must-see TV?

Every Sunday for the past 50 years, Texans have settled in front of the television to hear the same warm, six-word invitation: “Hop in and travel with us.”

So begins each episode of “Texas Country Reporter.” Since 1973, Bob Phillips has transported Texans around the state. For most of the past decade, his wife, Kelli, has been his co-host. Each week, viewers meet a trio of characters and learn something new about the culture, history, wildlife, and communities of a state larger in size than Spain and France.

The program is the longest-running independently produced television show in American history, according to its website. Starting as a small local travel program, it evolved into a cultural icon. A generation grew up humming the theme song, dreaming of being featured as one of the “ordinary” Texans doing “extraordinary things,” as Mr. Phillips has described the program. Since 1996, Waxahachie, a city south of Dallas, has hosted the annual Texas Country Reporter Festival. 

“It grew and it grew and it grew,” says Joe Nick Patoski, a writer who has chronicled Texas culture for decades. By the turn of the century, the program “had grown into a real juggernaut,” he adds. “It wasn’t just a television show.”

“Texas Country Reporter” will soon be entering a new era. After five decades, and countless miles in the show’s iconic van (today, a Texas flag-adorned Ford Expedition), Mr. and Mrs. Phillips are unbuckling their seat belts and stepping away from the show. The new host is J.B. Sauceda, a journalist and lifelong fan of the show.

The beloved institution is at a crossroads in more ways than one. Mr. Sauceda – and Texas Monthly, which acquired the program in 2021 – are taking over in a state, and a media landscape, much changed from the early 1970s.

Texas is increasingly young, urban, and digital. While the population is growing, more than half of the state’s counties are in “rural decline,” meaning their deaths outnumber their births, according to the Texas Demographic Center. The romantic vision of Texas as a rural state of ranches and small towns doesn’t fit the lived experience of most Texans. Meanwhile, programs of all stripes now compete for clicks and eyeballs in a seemingly endless flow of content on a growing list of streaming platforms. 

“We recognize there are lots of things demanding of people’s attention these days,” says Mr. Sauceda. But he thinks this formula that “Texas Country Reporter” has built up over the decades – short, warm glimpses into everyday life – will not only survive in the current moment, but also grow.

“It’s not about famous people. It’s not about making a point and a statement. It’s about giving a platform to exceptional things ordinary people do,” he adds. “I think people want that right now.“

“They say you are what you eat. I believe you are who you meet,” says Mr. Sauceda. “That’s what I hope comes through the show.”

Building a brand

“Texas Country Reporter” (or “TCR” to fans) debuted as “4 Country Reporter” at the CBS affiliate in Dallas in 1972. Mr. Phillips took over as host a year later, but after 14 years, the show was canceled. It turned out to be the making of the program, as he started producing it himself and selling it to television stations around the state. Over the decades, as his hair turned gray and the “TCR” van gave way to an SUV, Mr. Phillips – aided by his baritone Texan drawl – built a brand.

Working as a TV producer in Amarillo, Larry Lemmons admired the unique personal stories that the program broadcast each week. “That’s what influenced me so much, the idea that anyone could have a story,” says Professor Lemmons, who now teaches media and communications at Texas A&M University in College Station. He says there weren’t many shows at the time “that featured the local blacksmith,” for example. 

As much as the show explores the back roads of Texas, it’s an exploration of Texans themselves, from a mule whisperer in Medina, to a blind painter in Denton, to homemade Indian food at a gas station near Paint Rock. “Texans like to believe it’s still a rural state. Bob tapped into that a while ago, that zeitgeist,” says Mr. Patoski.

The program “is always friendly,” he adds, “and it’s getting storytellers to tell their story.” 

Appearing on the program earlier this year fulfilled a lifelong dream for historian Gary Pinkerton. He was featured in an episode with a nature documentarian from Lubbock and a grocery store owner in Maud. The episode dove not just into their work but also into their lives. 

“Big moments in history, the big splashes we think about or remember, are sometimes begun by very common people,” he told the hosts.

Mr. Pinkerton’s eight-minute segment, exploring a road used by 19th-century settlers, “got to the emotions of the story, and that’s what counted to me,” he says.

The show “takes its time to cover details ... but [also] gives you the big picture,” he adds. “It just draws you into the story.”

Telling small-town stories

“Texas Country Reporter” has long had a folksy, nostalgic feel. The program never touches the many political or social issues in the Lone Star State. It focuses on rural lives to an extent that doesn’t reflect contemporary Texas. (Four out of 5 Texans live in urban areas, according to Census Bureau data, though the state does also have one of the country’s largest rural populations.)

All the above is what has made the program so enduringly popular, says Mr. Patoski. “There’s always been this niche. Texans love hearing our small-town stories,” he adds. “It speaks to our better angels. I think that’s why it resonates.”

The change in host also reflects “the change in Texas,” he continues. “It’s a very diverse state, it’s a very young state, and to me the new [host] represents that.”

Mr. Sauceda’s background does tick many boxes for “modern Texan.” His parents were raised by migrant workers, but he grew up middle class near Houston. The household soundtrack featured George Strait, Selena, and Willie Nelson. They ate brisket and brisket tacos.

He says when the next season begins airing in September 2024, there will be a few changes. He wants to get new equipment and to get the show more widely available on streaming platforms (some episodes and segments are already on YouTube). But the warm, personal stories of ordinary Texans are going to continue to be its heart and soul.

“The show is meant to be a coffee break that reminds us about why we like living here and why our neighbors are such great people,” he adds. “That’s something that resonates with every Texan of every age.” 

Correction: This article has been updated to reflect that Bob and Kelli Phillips are leaving the show, but are not retiring.