McALLEN — A century ago, the Rio Grande Valley stood at the cusp of a transformation.

The twin arrivals of irrigation and railroads in Hidalgo County promised to change the region from a swath of dusty scrubland to one of the state's agricultural powerhouses.

The population was booming.

The economy was shifting.

And the politics were fractious, hard fought and more than a little corrupt.

John McAllen donated land at the turn of the 20th century so an extension of the St. Louis, Brownsville and Mexico Railway could cross his ranch in southern Hidalgo County and by 1904 had founded a town site there with four other local developers.

They would hardly recognize that hamlet today.

The city of McAllen and several of its Valley neighbors - including Edinburg, Mission, Pharr and Weslaco - celebrate their centennials this decade.

In fact, today is the 99th anniversary of The Monitor. As the newspaper counts down to its own century mark, we look back at the past 100 years - analyzing the origins of today's Valley and how it arrived at this point in history through stories, archive photos and video interviews with longtime Valley residents.

All indications show the region stands poised to reinvent itself again.

While the first years of the 20th century were steeped in Anglo-dominated politics and ranching- and farming-based economies, Hispanic political players are now set to bear witness to the region's graduation into a cosmopolitan hub on the boundary of two nations.

"There certainly is a parallel between then and now largely driven by economic booms," said Anthony Knopp, a professor of history at the University of Texas-Brownsville. "And in both cases, this boom looks like it will last well into the future."

TURN OF THE CENTURY

The arrival of the railroad in 1904 ignited a proverbial spark in a powder keg of social and economic factors that had been quietly shifting for years.

Irrigation canals began snaking through the Valley in 1898, making large-scale agriculture possible in an area known for its dryness and heat.

With new business came new people, including migrating Midwestern farmers and a surge of Mexican immigrants looking for work in the fields.

Cities such as Mercedes, Weslaco and Pharr popped up at each new stop of the railway tracks, providing a home to new residents and leaders who guided development with a strict hand.

Icons like the McAllen family, Hidalgo County Sheriff John Closner and pharmacist John Shary shaped the growth of those communities, but weren't averse to guiding it toward their personal best interests.

But the shift from the Hispanic-dominated ranching economy to the Anglo-controlled business of large-scale farming also ushered in less beneficial changes.

While both ethnicities had commingled fairly peaceably during the region's frontier days, the new agricultural titans pushed for the segregation of many communities.

And like most other shifts at the time, the gradual separation centered on the railroad. Affluent Anglos clustered south of the tracks on valuable riverfront farmland, while poorer Mexican-Americans became bound by city ordinances that limited their potential homesteads to the northern side.

Still, Hidalgo County found itself inarguably changed by its first solid link to the outside world.

Goods began flowing out of the Valley at a heightened pace.

More importantly, people, innovative ideas and new ways of living began pouring in.

In 1903, Hidalgo County land was considered nearly worthless and sold for 25 cents an acre to a population of less than 7,000. Within seven years, the number of residents had more than tripled and land values had skyrocketed to $300 an acre, wrote Ruth Griffin Spence in her book Nickel Plated Highway to Hell about her experience growing up in Hidalgo County in the 1920s.

"There certainly was enormous change," University of Texas-Pan American history professor Jerry Polinard said. "But I think that's a story that every municipality can tell differently."

A NEW FRONTIER

Today, the train tracks remain - cutting across the Valley along Business 83.

But a new network of roadways and international bridges promises to again reshape the region's economy, politics and social life.

Like the railroad before it, the North American Free Trade Agreement has linked Hidalgo County to a whole new source of economic growth - one whose effects still may not have been fully felt in the Valley.

In the nearly 15 years since the tariff-busting treaty began taking effect, the county's population has almost doubled and the resulting economic boom has helped many of its people to break free of a long tradition of poverty.

While the average household income hovered at $35,591 in 1999, that figure had jumped more than 14 percent to just over $40,000 in 2006, according to U.S. census data.

With more money to spend, the region's demand for better retail services, health care and education grows.

Each year, the University of Texas-Pan American and South Texas College produce hundreds of new graduates who pursue fields like nursing, law enforcement and real estate development that have come to dominate the Valley economy.

With education levels rising, the call for more professionally run, accountable governments grows stronger.

The boss system that dominated Valley politics throughout the past century - and remains entrenched in the poorest parts of the county - thrived on an economic underclass dependent on affluent leaders who threw them bones in exchange for their votes.

Now, as more and more Valley residents have the financial wherewithal to address the major decisions in their lives, they are demanding a more responsible form of local politics.

Former Hidalgo County Sheriff Brigido Marmolejo, former Edcouch Mayor Gregorio Madrigal, and, more recently, a group of the top leaders in the Pharr-San Juan-Alamo school district have all fallen in corruption scandals for activity that would have seemed commonplace even 50 years ago.

"We've had so many community leaders that have fallen by the wayside," former Pharr Mayor A.C. Jaime said. "But we have an even better educated, professional group of young Mexican-Americans coming up to take their places."

100 YEARS LATER?

Of course, taking stock of the Valley's history solely at the tent poles of the 20th century ignores many of the events and people that make the region what we are today.

Natural disasters, nationwide social movements and the everyday lives of average residents have helped mold our collective character into the Hidalgo County of 2008.

What different path might history have taken without the firebrand activists who ushered in a new era of Hispanic-dominated politics in the late '60s and '70s?

Hurricane Beulah ravaged South Texas in 1967 and left much of the region underwater. But the massive recovery effort brought attention from the halls of government further north that extended well beyond the storm.

And individual men such as firebrand McAllen Mayor Othal Brand and former PSJA schools Superintendent Arturo Guajardo have - through their sheer force of personality and charisma - left their own indelible marks on the cities and districts they rose to represent.

Yet, some strains of the Valley's history haven't varied at all.

The region still grapples to receive adequate attention from state and federal leaders.

The same concern over foreign invaders that prompted the deployment of National Guard troops to the border during World War I lives on in our current efforts to secure the frontier from drug smugglers and terrorists.

And stark segregation between Anglos and Mexican-American laborers has shifted to today's tensions between U.S.-born Hispanics and recent migrants and the nationwide debate on illegal immigration.

It's hard to deny the times are changing and so is the Valley.

One wonders if we would recognize our cities 100 years from now any better than John McAllen would recognize his own city today.

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Jeremy Roebuck covers courts and general assignments for The Monitor. You can reach him at (956) 683-4437.