As the school bus disappeared down a Llano County road, no one knew it would be the last time anyone would see Holly Marie Simmons alive. The 45-year-old mother had just dropped her daughter off on a late November morning. In the next few days, the sheriff’s office would execute a massive search for Simmons, one that would take almost three years and pure luck to find the missing woman.

Follow this cold case turned homicide investigation from the beginning in my full behind the scenes “Living Off The Air” blog post, as you dig into the life of the woman whose body came to rest on the bottom of Inks Lake for three years. You can also interact with me through Twitter or email me.

Nearly five months ago, everyone at my new station kept telling me to expect to tell a lot of “drought” stories. Surely, they were exaggerating, I thought. Since then, it’s truly been an every-other-day thing. The drought consumes my work week. I can’t escape it. And believe me, I am perspiring these days. It’s disgusting. As the temperature rises above 100 degrees, the sweat just pours forth. Seriously, I’ve ruined dress shirts. I keep paper towels in my work vehicle to mop off my forehead before I have to shoot a standup. Makeup does nothing to hide what’s trickling into my eyes, burning them like a bad Johnson & Johnson commercial.

Follow me across the various waterways on this extensive blog post, complete with before and after photos to measure the drought’s devastation. You can also email me or follow me on Twitter.

Standing outside the Blanco County Jail, I soaked up the mild morning. As I waited for the sheriff, the heat began pressing down with mid-9os in the forecast. The old limestone building sat on the corner across the street from the courthouse in Johnson City. It was plain but impressive, surrounded by the chain link fence topped with coils of barbed wire. The two-story structure itself had bars covering the windows and doors. On the side near the top, there was an old rusted replica of the sheriff’s badge. As I stared at the emblem, I heard a voice hehind me.

“Would you believe there’s no central air in there?” Sheriff Bill Elsbury cross the street and shook my hand. There was indeed no air conditioning or heat in the jail. “When you go to jail, you go to jail,” he laughed, raising his eyebrows in a way that seemed to say, “Stay out of trouble.” My interview with Elsbury for the KXAN story concerned the future of the jail, a future that hinged on the history here.

Check out the full “Living Off The Air” blog post to take a video tour outside the historical site, to read about the only jailbreak there, and to find out why a museum might be in store when the structure closes in two years. You can also follow me on Twitter or reach me through E-mail.

As I drove my grandparents’ boat-of-a-car into Fredericksburg, my mind drifted to a story from the same town just a few days before. Granny had just finished her own tale about her hearing aid appointment that came too late to hear much on their first trip to the Texas Hill Country. The venture filled her with curiosity, which was difficult considering she was sitting in the backseat unable to dicipher most of what I said. When she asked where my mind had drifted, I’m sure Granny never thought my answer would be “murder.”

I understood Linda Muegge was a phenomenal cook. Observing the stockpile of stories from two years before, I heard her pastor talk about the gourmet meals she prepared for families in need. Following up on the two-year anniversary of her death, I met her neighbor, who told me his initial thought when first noticing the fire next door was her gas cooking stove had caused the accident. Arson to cover up Muegge’s murder never crossed his mind or most of those in Fredericksburg. Speaking with the police chief, I found, in his 36 years on the force, the town had only five murders. Muegge’s was the only one still unsolved.

Check out the full “Living Off The Air” blog post to view a slideshow from the crime scene, watch the Fredericksburg police chief reveal new connections in the case, and take a video tour of Linda Muegge’s street. You can also follow me on Twitter or reach me through E-mail.

Since my first visit to Austin’s Town Lake (now renamed Lady Bird Lake) six years ago, I wanted to canoe its waters. When I finally had the chance, I found out boating wasn’t enough for some. Drifting under the Lamar Blvd. Bridge, I saw a trio of men climbing the 30-foot concrete bases and jumping back into the Colorado below.

Taking plenty of photos of the daredevils, I later found out their recreation was illegal. Both swimming in the lake and jumping from its bridges were forbidden by city code. When I approached the city’s parks and recs director with the pictures, she was horrified. Asking for a copy, she took them straight to the police department, where a plan to begin weekend boat patrols took shape.

Watch the story, plus check out all the photos on my full blog post. You can also connect with me through Twitter or by E-mail.

I don’t want this post to seem like an advertisement, but this pie is part of the reason I took a job at KXAN and moved to the Texas Hill Country. As the famed Blue Bonnet Cafe in Marble Falls celebrated its 80th birthday, I found myself covering the exact dessert that, just a few months earlier, served as my lunchtime deal maker.

From the Depression to our current recession, Blue Bonnet owners say the pie has kept them sweetly strong through the toughest of times. As other specialty restaurants shut down in the city, this cafe is nowhere close to closing down. What exactly keeps customers coming back for more and became the icing on the cake (rather, the six-inch high meringue on the pie) for my journey to Texas? Explore my “Living Off The Air” blog and serve up a slice yourself in a virtual video there. You can also connect with me through Twitter or E-mail.

I have been to jail five times. From chatting with a married cop convicted of killing his gay lover to harmonizing with a criminal choir, nothing was quite as enlightening as the old Burnet County Jail. Closed just a few weeks before I strolled through its cell block, my tour with the sheriff came with plenty of questions about the jail’s future.

When prisoners moved to the county’s new megajail, it seemingly solved many problems. The county no longer had overcrowding concerns, previously paying to house the overflow population at other nearby jails. Now, Burnet County is the landlord, opening up plenty of beds to outside prisoners for profit. But amid a recession and still owing more than a million on the old, empty place, another idea for even more prisoners presented itself.

Take a video tour and check out the entire case for increasing criminals in Burnet County on the “Living Off The Air” blog. You can also connect with me through Twitter or E-mail.

My journey to Texas is woven in wine. Just a few weeks ago, the box that rattled beside my feet on the floorboard of my grandfather’s pickup truck was full of memories and the indulgent offerings of the vine. A bottle from college, a bottle from my best friend’s wedding, a bottle for my last day in Iowa. They clanked as reminders of the steps I had taken to get this far.

Strangely enough, my first solo story at KXAN brought me back to those years in the Hawkeye state. Rick and Madelyn Naber (and their arthritic, grape-testing dog, Trooper) also left Iowa to pursue a dream. The couple opened Flat Creek Vineyard a decade earlier, now weathering… the weather. A cold snap around the same time I moved damaged more than 70% of their crop, something very unusual for Texas. I thought I had escaped freezing temps.

Their solution inspired this blog post and gave me ideas for my own challenges that, undoubtedly, lie ahead. Experience “Living Off The Air” for the entire multi-media blog.

You can also connect with me on Twitter or e-mail.

We’ve documented some amazing sights today.  Check out our coverage from Orange, Tx today. 

We also shot some compelling video where caskets came up from the ground in Orange.

Tonight we’re staying at our sister station KBTV in Beaumont.  This station is unable to broadcast out over the airwaves because its transmitter is out.  The kind souls here are letting us stay among them as they work long and hard to provide coverage over the internet. We’re going to sleep on the floor, get up in the morning, and do it all over again tomorrow. I truly hope this coverage is helping people in the Golden Triangle realize what they might have to come home to see.

Photojournalist Mark Batchelder and I rode out on an airboat rescue mission yesterday near Labelle, Tx.  By the time we got there, volunteer firefighters (not trained as search & rescue crews) had already rescued about 50 people off rooftops and out of attics.  We went on one of the last missions to look for some lone survivors and we talked to some folks who chose to stay behind.