Rear view volume II

shown; one was labeled “Sweetwater” and one “Indian Creek”, and a dashed line crossing through the area was labeled “trail”. And near the streams’ intersection was an “X” with the words “under big rock slab”. A treasure map! I knew enough Wyoming geography to know that the old Oregon Trail, on which so many pioneers traveled west in the early 1840’s, followed the Sweetwater river for quite some distance and crossed it at least two places. History books recount how often pioneers had to lighten their loads due to hazardous stream crossings, and/or the problems with tiring teams of horses or oxen. So it seemed likely that what was “under the big rock slab” was something that some

pioneer had discarded, and that it was probably too valuable to just throw away and not come back for another time.

work by bus!) The house cost $12,000 and required a down payment of $6,000, which almost exhausted our savings accounts. But we were pleased with the first real estate we had ever owned, and were proud to show it off the following year to our first group of visiting relatives: Carol's parents, Earl and Lu Snell, and her aunt and uncle, Mary and Carl Snell. Earl, a gung-ho gardener at his Wisconsin home, suggested and helped me start a vegetable garden in the back yard,which proved to be a decidedly fine contribution to our grocery supplies,--except for the eggplant which we weren’t sure was edible.

2 ½ passengers. J.M. greatly enjoyed riding in the rumble seat, but this wasn’t a very suitable arrangement in rainy or cold weather. So a 4-passenger vehicle with a front and

back seat was needed and we acquired an economy size Studebaker. Selling old “Sally” was a sad event, both for me and Jerry M., but we had only a one-car garage and keeping

two cars would have been a bit difficult.

* * * *

The Carter Exploration Department headquarters, to which I was now assigned, consisted of four supervisory units: Geology, Geophysics, Land, and Scouting. The first

two’s functions were to analyze and evaluate the feasibility and economics of drilling on

Carter lease farmout proposals submitted by the Division offices. The Land unit operated similarly in the matter of lease purchases; Scouting supervised field office efforts to keep abreast of competitive company activities and kept headquarters appropriately advised. All four cooperated in preparing and authorizing budgets for exploration activities. The Chief Geologist in charge of the unit I worked for was a friendly and capable fellow named Harold Moses.

each of whom specialized in one of four Divisions (Central, Eastern,Western, and Southern). Staff members present at the weekly meetings would depend on which of the

Divisions had submitted proposals for drilling or farming out Carter leases. I was rather surprised to find that George Musselman, whom I had known at the University of Texas and had shared pre-WWII assignments in North Dakota and Montana, was the Western

Division authority, frequently appearing in the weekly meetings to present their deals. My initial job, after reporting for work in Tulsa, was to maintain geologic maps and research geologic data pertinent to proposals coming from the Divisions, before they were considered in the weekly meetings. I soon deduced that my assignment was a training job which might prepare me for a higher staff category. I enjoyed the work, had my own office, and looked forward to a fine career with Carter.

Coincidentally, Carol and I had been invited to have dinner with the Musselmans that evening. When I got home Carol said Mrs. Musselman had called to briefly tell her they

had to cancel the date, with no explanation as to why. Carol asked me, “ What do you suppose is the matter? Have you had some trouble with George?” I told her no, and that George no longer worked for Carter, and why.
* * * *
Hank Sharkey subsequently arrived in Tulsa on a training assignment somewhat similar to mine, and Carol and I were pleased to be able to resume social contacts with them. One day I was surprised to see them both appear at my office door. After we had exchanged the customary greetings Hank said, “Something important has happened to us.”

“Let’s see,” I said, “are you pregnant again, Billie?” She smiled, glanced briefly at Hank to see if he’d reply, and when he didn’t she said, “We’ve agreed to get divorced.” I’m sure my jaw must have dropped. Hank then said “Yep. we decided to split and go our own ways”.

“Think I will!” And to my utter astonishment she proceeded to the phone and called Hank. “Hank, I’ve met the lady you should marry. Her name is Ruby Lackey. She’s a widow with twin boys about Jerry Mike’s age. Would you like to have me get you a date with her?” Hank must have been stammering a bit, because Carol kept saying, “Yes,

really. Of course. I think so. Sure. Well,--when? Okay, next Friday night? I’ll call her and tell her about you, and then you can call her and confirm the date. Here’s her phone number.”

Hank and Ruby did have that date and several later ones, including one when Carol and I took them to dinner, which is when I first met Ruby. About a month later they both appeared in my office. Hank said, “Guess what?”

“You’re going to take Carol and I out to dinner?” I said.

“Nope.” Both smiled broadly as Hank added, “We’re going to take you and Carol to our wedding! Are you available next Saturday?” I stammered my congratulations and acceptance. And that’s what occurred. Ruby happened to know a minister who lived at Claremore, a pleasant town of about 7,000 Okies roughly 25 miles northeast of Tulsa. Its main claim to fame is that the famous cowboy-comedian Will Rogers was born on a ranch nearby.

more thought.” We other three passengers, to put it mildly, were rather startled. Ruby was having second thoughts about marrying Hank? No one made any comment, and I headed for a drug store I’d seen a block back. We disembarked, entered, and I ordered a round of Cokes at the soft drink counter. I’d had the foresight to bring a small pocket flask in my jacket pocket with which I’d planned to toast the bride and groom after the ceremony. In view of Ruby’s indecision I decided she could better use some of it now, so I spiked her

Coke and told her why. "Good idea!" she said with a nervous chuckle. Hank decided he

could use a bit of the same, so I obliged him with a substantial sample from the flask.

Carol declined my offer of a sample, and I also abstained since I was the driver. There was a minimum of conversation for the next fifteen minutes or so, which concluded with Ruby banging her empty glass on the table and firmly saying, “O.K., I’m ready. Let’s go!” We did, and Henry and Ruby were wedded in a rather informal but emotionally satisfying ceremony. (And, I should add, stayed happily married for nearly 30 years until Hank died from cancer in 1980 after they’d moved to Houston.)
* * * *
Jerry Mike and Kappy were delightful family members and the source of much of Carol’s and my joy and pleasure throughout their childhood. Both were well mannered and obedient youngsters who enjoyed playing with their peers and each other, and related well with admiring adults. Like most kids their age they enjoyed costumes. J.M’s favorite when he was about 3 years old was a fancy cowboy outfit, complete with hat, boots, appropriate decorative shirt and pants, and of course a belt with holster and toy pistol.

And on his 6^th birthday he received a khaki military uniform which he wore proudly five days later on Veterans Day, 11/11/51. It was modeled after one I’d worn in the Army Air Force during WWII, complete with military cap, belt, officer’s insignia, and pilot’s wings.

Kappy’s preferred dress-up attire when she was two was a pretty white dress with a large matching white bonnet. When she was allowed to wear this on special occasions she always carried a large stuffed cloth doll wearing an identical outfit that Carol had made for her as a birthday gift.

At that age she obviously liked being admired by adults but was reticent about responding verbally to compliments or questions from non-family persons. On one occasion, after Christmas when she was 2 ½, some guests we were having for dinner persisted for a couple minutes in trying to get her to tell them what she had gotten for Christmas gifts. For some reason she would not reply with even one word, even with us asking her to do so. The next day I had a fatherly chat with her, emphasizing that if she wanted people to like her it was very necessary that she do her best to respond and acknowledge their comments and questions. To the amazement of Carol and me, Kappy gave my suggestion some serious thought, and beginning the very next day became relatively talkative with anyone who initiated a conversation with her, which did indeed enhance her attractiveness for our friends.
When she was still only a bit older than one year she and I played a rather bad joke on Carol. I came home on the bus from work one day when Carol was in the back yard and didn’t see me come in the house. Kappy was playing in her room. I took her with me into the bathroom, locked the door, waited until I heard Carol re-enter the house, then whispered to Kappy to call for her mother. This she did, and I kept urging her to do it louder. Carol finally heard, arrived at the door, and found it was locked. She rapped on the door with increasing vigor, tried with her voice increasing in decibels to tell Kappy how to unlock the door, and finally in frustration called that she’d go outside to the bathroom window and see if she could get in to free Kappy. When I heard her leave, I took Kappy back to her room, left the bathroom door open, and went out the front door to the street. I gave Carol time enough to have looked in the bathroom window, see that the door was finally open and Kappy had gone out, then re-entered the house as though I was just arriving home. When I got to Carol I tried to look astounded as she excitedly told me how Kappy had locked herself in the bathroom and finally was able to let herself out. I didn’t explain the matter to her until the next day, and found that her sense of humor in this particular event was entirely lacking.
Kappy inadvertently and unintentionally performed a joke on both Carol and I two or three years later. She enjoyed climbing in a fairly large apple tree that grew in the front yard, a procedure that we usually wanted to monitor. One weekend when Carol and I were both in the house we were horrified to have Jerry M. come running into the house yelling, “Kappy’s hung herself in the apple tree!” We rushed out, expecting the worst, and did indeed find Kappy hanging in the tree, but fortunately not by the neck, yelling

loudly for help. She had apparently slipped from an upper branch, had dropped down between two limbs near the tree trunk, and was hanging with a branch under each armpit.

It was a snug fit, and from the angle where J.M. saw her it did look like she was hanging by the neck. I got a ladder from the garage, and with rather considerable effort finally managed to loosen her and carry her down. Carol and I nervously laughed a bit after the rescue, but Kappy couldn’t see much humor in the situation, and it was quite some time before she tried out her climbing expertise again.
As they grew older J.M. and Kappy always enjoyed outdoor activities,--picnics, camping, boating, hiking in forested areas, swimming and water sports, etc., due I presume to their frequent exposure to such pastimes by their parents (and maybe the inheritance of the appropriate genes). In those years we spent many weekends on various Oklahoma lakes (once at Spavinaw in a cabin owned and loaned by Harold Moses). I had purchased a modest sized fishing boat, propelled exclusively by oars, which we hauled along on most of our lakeside visits. Tenting in the Arkansas Ozarks was a popular enterprise. There are numerous state parks scattered in eastern Oklahoma, which we often visited on weekends. A notable favorite was Robbers Cave, about 100 miles southeast of Tulsa, which the kids could scramble into and around for hours.

Summers invariably included long visits by Carol and the kids with her parents and

mine in Wisconsin where J.M. and Kappy were very popular guests and “the living was easy”. I would usually accompany them during the two weeks’ vacation I was then allowed (Carter employees in those days didn’t qualify for three weeks until they had worked for the company ten years.) They all wanted to stay there longer, of course, and usually did, so I’d have to return to Tulsa by myself, which was a lonesome way to spend several weeks in a hot summer until my family made their way back.
One summer in 1951 when I took them on a visit to Downsville (population: 300; where I once lived), a memorable event occurred (memorable to them): I taught them to fish! It was strictly cane pole and worm bait technique, done in an unattractive pond near town, but thrilling to the kids. The “catch” was several foot-long ugly fish locally called “bullheads”, because of a pair of sharp half- inch bone spikes on their heads ( which, if accidentally stepped on by a bare foot, could cripple a person for several days). I’ve never seen any reference to them in a fishing guide book, but I think they are probably an unpopular relative of the catfish. But regardless of their catch’s quality, the kids were of course excited and proud.
Both kids enjoyed a variety of games, and both became baseball lovers and good players. J.M. subsequently was a star player on a champion little-league team during our later years in Oklahoma City (in which I participated as assistant coach). And Kappy, in her early teenage years during our second stay in Tulsa played on a girls’ softball team where among other honors she once came home with a case of Coca Colas for having gotten the most hits and home runs in a crucial game. (At that period in her life, she was seriously hoping to ultimately become a shortstop on a big-league team!)
* * * *

During my 4-year tour of duty in Tulsa from 1948 to 1952 I had several interesting part-time assignments in conjunction with my regular function as Western Division staff representative. Carter was building a large research laboratory on the edge of the city, and the architect in charge convinced the Carter officials supervising the project that the large reception room at the main entrance should have an appropriate geological décor of some sort. For some reason I was assigned to that job. After giving the matter quite a bit of thought I conceived the idea of having each of the north, east, south and west walls decorated with plaster murals of geologically correct cross sections, appropriately molded and colored, portraying the sequential layers of rocks that would be penetrated by wells drilled at the north, east, south and west borders of Oklahoma. This idea was endorsed by

the head architect and acclaimed by the Carter supervisors. That was the good news. The bad news was that I was delegated to be the geologist responsible for drawing the cross sections, to the proper scale and dimensions that would fit the dimensions of the walls.

This project did not relieve me of my regular staff functions, so most of the work I had to do on weekends or office overtime. But after I had researched the geologic data applicable to the four Oklahoma boundaries, the drafting of the four murals was not very

time consuming. About a week or so after I had delivered the plans to the architect in charge, I was called out to the new research building to view the results, and the slightly

three-dimensional colored plaster layers on the walls representing buried layers of shale, sandstone and limestone were quite eye-catching,--especially to other geologists. I heard

about 15 or 20 years later that the Carter lab had been remodeled, and my murals were lost in the process. But it was always a feeling of satisfaction to know that I, although hardly qualifying as an artist, had been credited with being a murals designer for a rather impressive building.
Another interesting and much more time consuming assignment, which did relieve me of some of my normal staff functions for over a month, was a research project designed to assess the economic feasibilities of producing from oil shale an oil product which could be distilled and used like petroleum in refinery operations. Like most commercial enterprises where the goal is to increase profits, the cost of raw materials is a vital factor, and this is especially true in the oil business. And the most crucial problem in using oil shale is whether it can be mined, transported and distilled at a cost competitive with petroleum obtained by the financially hazardous business of finding, leasing, and well drilling of prospective oil productive areas.
Oil shale deposits of possible commercial interest are thick bedded outcrops of shale now at or near the surface, originally deposited in ocean basins, which in many past aeons of geologic history have been permeated with great quantities of hydrocarbon materials later hardened by the pressure of overlying sediment deposits. Such deposits are

present in several areas in the U.S. and Canada. But those of economic potential must have several qualifications: (1) they must be located in relatively undeveloped locations where large scale surface mining would not be detrimental to the environment or nearby civilization; (2) oil shale layers must be of substantial thickness and must not contain numerous inter-bedded thick layers of other sediments (sandstone, etc.) which would hinder efficient mining; (3) areas must be operable by large mining machinery and be reasonably accessible to refinery installations; (4) assays must indicate that the average grade of the shale is sufficiently high to qualify for optimum processing economics; and, most importantly, (5) deposits are located on government property that can be acquired by mining claims, or by purchases or leases from private or company owners.

Most of this data I obtained from a variety of mineral resource publications by the U.S. Geological Survey, and an assortment of government maps showing private and federal land ownerships and mineral claim records (which had to be obtained at county courthouses). In some cases I had to make trips to the oil shale areas, mostly in Colorado, to collect some samples for assays to determine whether a promising deposit was rich enough to be prospective. (These trips, of course, were the fun part of the research.) My efforts were subsequently complimented by the Carter managers who initiated the project, but to my disappointment any action on oil shale mining kept being deferred since it appeared that mining oil shale would be less profitable than drilling oil wells.