Adventures with R.B.

 

One day in late 2013, I found a note on the door at home. It was from a woman asking me to call her – that she would like to talk to me about putting her horse in my pasture. I called her and she explained that she lived in the Lake Country subdivision, across the street from us, and that she had a horse that she was keeping in Sand Springs. She would have to drive back and forth twice daily to feed Roscoe. She asked if I would be interested in letting her keep Roscoe in our pasture. At the time, we had two Nubian wethers (neutered goats), Speed and Pull, and they couldn’t begin to keep up with the grass so I told her that yes, she could bring the horse up there.

A few weeks went by and I didn’t hear anything from her so I called her again. She explained that she and her husband were getting a divorce and she wasn’t sure who was going to get Roscoe. I told her that the offer to put Roscoe up here was still good.  Some months passed and I got another call from her. She and her husband had reconciled and she wanted to bring the horse up. So, in June, 2014, Teresa Ellis and her husband, R.B., brought Roscoe to live with us.

It’s funny how fate brings you twists and turns in your life. We had never met R.B. and Teresa but quickly became good friends, all thanks to Roscoe. They were about fifteen years younger than us but we seemed to hit it off. Teresa would come over two or three times a day to care for Roscoe and eventually we got to where we would feed for her if she was not available.

R.B. was the Safety Fire Chief for the Tulsa Fire Department and reported directly to the main Fire Chief. He and Teresa had a business on the side selling rescue equipment and training fire personnel in the area on ropes and swift water rescue. In addition, R.B. was an avid outdoorsman.

In early 2017, R.B. started planning a boundry waters fishing trip to Minnesota and asked me if I wanted to go. Of course I did! We had two or three planning meetings to get everything in order. In addition to R.B. and me, his son Bobby was going, along with a couple of R.B.’s friends, James Nichols and Travis Sheeder. Of the five of us, I was by far the oldest, some fifteen years older than R.B. and probably thirty five years older than the others. In addition, at 5’9”, I was at least ten inches shorter than all these giants.

On Saturday, June 10, 2017, we all met at my house in the morning, loaded all our gear into my Tiffin motor home, and took off for Minnesota. We all spent the first night in the motor home in the parking lot of the Cabela’s store in Owatonna, Minnesota. After spending a considerable amount of money in the store, we took off the next day and got into Ely, Minnesota just after noon. We met with the outfitter with whom R.B. had made arrangements and got our gear including two canoes and several “Duluth” packs.

We parked the motor home at the Outfitter’s store and he drove us several miles northeast of Ely where we loaded our canoes and took off. The canoes were loaded to the gunwales with gear! In addition to the Duluth packs, we had rods and reels, tackle boxes and kitchen gear. I should explain that a Duluth pack is a giant backpack and can be loaded with as much gear as you can carry.

After about three hours of paddling the canoes, and two portages, we finally arrived at our campsite. We were there for five days and had a great time! We didn’t catch a lot of fish but the ones we did catch were nice. We had two severe thunderstorms on two different nights but were dry as could be in our covered hammocks.

On Friday, the sixteenth, we loaded our canoes and started the long paddle back. Only this time the wind was blowing a gale and I was scared to death that we might sink. Fortunately, we made it back to the takeout point where our outfitter met us. The motor home was loaded up with all our gear and pointed south toward Oklahoma. We left about 2:30 in the afternoon and pulled into my house about 8:30 the next morning.While we were gone, Louise, Teresa, and another of their friends, Janet Varnell, took a three-day trip to Oklahoma City. I’ll bet they didn’t drink as much as we did, though.

In early 2018, the next year, R.B. suggested that we do another Minnesota fishing trip, but this time to a lake where we could take our boats. I told him I was all in on this one, too.

The crew which had gone on the previous trip couldn’t go so we recruited another friend of R.B.’s, Ronnie Fewell, to go along. He had a nephew and nephew’s friend who wanted to go so the five of us made plans to go to Lake Winnibigoshish (called Lake Winnie by the locals) at the headwaters of the Mississippi River in Minnesota. Ronnie referred to the nephew, Denton, and his friend, Clint, as the “crack babies”.

On Thursday, June 7, we loaded our gear and boats and took off for Minnesota. Again, we got to Owatonna the first evening but, because we weren’t in my motor home, had to stay at a motel that night. Once again, we left a lot of money at Cabela’s! Also, on the way up there, R.B.’s odometer in his Ford pickup rolled over 300,000 miles.

We stayed at a place called the Northland Lodge. It’s most redeeming quality was the bar in the Lodge. We spent quite a bit of time there when we weren’t fishing. We caught hundreds of fish, mostly perch, but almost all of them were too small to keep. As usual, our spare time was spent playing cards and drinking whiskey. We had learned on the previous trip that Wild Turkey and Nutter Butters went well together. The convenience store in the small town of Deer River quickly ran out of it’s supply of Nutter Butters.On Thursday the 14^th we started home and, as in the previous trip, drove straight through, getting home on Friday morning.

We weren’t through with 2018. As you’ve read earlier, I had made two trips down the Arkansas River in the past, once in 2003 and again in 2005. So, thirteen years after my last trip I talked R.B. into a river trip.  This time we recruited my brother Milt and his friend, Bill Henshaw. I was to take my boat, a nineteen foot center console fishing boat, and Bill would take his. He had a big wide aluminum boat which was perfect for the trip. My son, Dan, was going to meet us in Arkansas and join the trip there.

On Wednesday, September 26, we loaded up our gear and drove to Bluff Landing Park east of Broken Arrow on 71^st Street, where we launched. By launching at Bluff Landing you can say that you have locked through every lock on the Arkansas River. Louise and Teresa went with us to drive the trucks and boat trailers home.

Our plan was to meet the girls on the 28^th in Little Rock and spend the evening there with them. They were pulling the trailers and were going to spend the next night in Greenville, Mississippi, then meet us and drive back.

The first night we stayed at Applegate Landing on Kerr Lake. The marina operator was nice enough to let us camp in his pavilion so all we had to do was unroll some sleeping bags. Since we had not met Dan yet, there were just four of us. Every one of the four had a CPAP machine to use at night! Fortunately, there were plenty of electrical outlets.

The next day was relatively uneventful. We got to Ozark, Arkansas, where we met Dan and stayed in a Corps of Engineers park, Aux Arc Park. The park was right on the river so all we had to do was pull the boats up to the bank and unload our gear.

There is a lock and dam just outside the park and we got through it the next morning, September 28. After that lock is a seventy eight mile run down the River and Dardanelle Lake to the next lock. This was the longest stretch on the trip and took several hours. At the end of Dardanelle Lake is the lock and dam by the same name. This is also the largest lock on the entire system with a forty eight foot elevation change. Those locks are amazing feats of engineering.

We met the girls in Little Rock as planned, at a marina where we had made reservations to spend the night on a couple of boats in the marina. Louise and I and R.B. and Teresa were to stay on a houseboat with two bedrooms and the three other guys were staying on a cabin cruiser. We went out to dinner that night and had a wonderful time.

We woke up the next morning to some of the most dense fog I’ve ever seen. None of us wanted to venture out into that stuff so we found a restaurant close by and had a leisurely breakfast. Finally, about eleven, the fog started to lift. We topped off all of our gas cans, said goodbye to our wives and took off down the river. Little Rock is the last place before Greenville to purchase gasoline.

There is a lock and dam just downstream from Little Rock, David Terry Lock and Dam. Fate was not kind to us this morning – we got to the lock just as a barge tow was coming up. It was a big one, too, so it was going to take a couple of hours to get it though the lock.

I should explain that pleasure craft are the lowest forms of transportation on the totem pole on the river. About the time they were finishing up the barge tow, another big one arrived from downstream to be locked up. So, we sat there another two hours! We had lost three or four hours in the morning with the fog and how we’ve lost another four hours at this lock.

After we finally got through David Terry, we had to run hard to make up some of the time we had lost. It was Saturday, the 29^th and we were to meet the girls in Greenville the next morning. We finally decided to make camp just below Emmett Sanders Lock and Dam, some sixty six miles from the Mississippi River. We had only made fifty two miles that day.

We pulled the boats up on a sand bar, unpacked and had a delicious shore meal. I should point out that R.B. was quite a camp cook and took over that chore on every trip we made. The only downside is that he brought a lot of cooking gear with him!

We set our camp up, including tents because we knew that the mosquitoes would be horrible and, sure enough, they were. Because four of the five of us used CPAP’s, we had brought a portable generator to power them and we had extension cords running everywhere. The next morning, I was told that we had a group of four-wheelers come through the camp late in the night. I never did hear them.

The next morning, Sunday, we knew we had to run hard to get to Greenville at a reasonable hour. We were planning on driving all the way back to Mannford that evening. We had a quick breakfast and took off.

Now we came face to face with the gasoline problem. We had topped off the tanks in Little Rock but knew it was going to be close to get to Greenville. My boat had a forty eight gallon main tank and I had a twelve gallon portable tank as well. When we got to Greenville, the big tank was dry and the portable tank had about two gallons in it. Bill, in the other boat, was just about as dry.

Louise and Teresa met us at the boat ramp and we got the boats loaded onto the trailers. They had been waiting for us and had started to eat lunch at a Huddle House when we called telling them that we were at the boat ramp. We went with them back to the Huddle House and had one of the worst meals I’ve ever had. Milt continues to tease both Teresa and Louise about the Huddle House today.

Although we got a late start, the trip back home was uneventful and we got there very late Sunday night.

Years earlier, R.B. had had a cancer removed on his tongue. In early 2021, it manifested itself again and he had surgery to remove it. This time the surgery was more in depth and he was in the hospital several days. Because of the Covid pandemic, he was not allowed to have visitors. He got out of the hospital on Tuesday, February 23, and went home to be nursed back to health by Teresa.

The next morning about eight, I got a phone call. It was Teresa telling me that R.B. had just died. He had gotten up, was walking through their house, fell and just died. He was sixty years old. Three days later, on February 27, his funeral was held at the First Baptist Church in Tulsa. It was the largest funeral I had ever attended. Most of the Tulsa Fire Department was on hand, along with many firemen from outlying departments. The Mayor of Tulsa was in attendance as well as several other dignitaries.

R.B. was a good friend and a great person. I shall miss him.

Albert Lee Wyatt

 It's been almost a year since I've posted anything here and, all of a sudden, I feel a need to post some things.  This entry is about a man who was my father's half-uncle.  Neither my father nor I ever met the man but I've done quite a bit of research on him.

Albert Lee Wyatt (1878-1949)

Albert Wyatt was born in 1878 to L.A. Wyatt and Laura Dunham. His father was from Tennessee and his mother from Missouri but they had migrated to Palo Pinto County in Texas when Albert was born. L.A. and Laura had married in Palo Pinto County in 1878 so it may have been a “shotgun” wedding.

L.A.’s fate is not known but Laura remarried in 1885 in Fannin County, Texas, this time to William Eugene Porter. William was born in Minnesota but had lived in Missouri and Texas before his marriage to Laura.

William and Laura had five children:

Ethel Dorothy 1887 Grayson County, Texas

Thomas Perry Sr. 1888 Travis County, Texas

Hermina 1893 (Location Unknown)

Doss Alan 1898 Indian Territory, Oklahoma

Arbell 1899 Indian Territory, Oklahoma

The 1900 Census found William Eugene and all five of his children, as well as his stepson, Albert, living in the Chickasaw Nation in Indian Territory. William’s marital status was listed as “widowed”. It is possible that Laura had died while giving birth to their youngest daughter, Arbell.

In about 1901, when Thomas was thirteen, he ran away from home, wound up in the Mannford/Keystone area and never saw his father again. William apparently remarried and he and his second wife had two daughters whose names are unknown.

By 1906, Albert had married a woman named Calvin “Callie” Horton and they had a son, Raymond. Raymond lived in Mannford, Oklahoma most of his life and went by the nickname “Slip”. He became the local town “ne’er do well” and spent most of his time drinking. He was also rumored to have been a moonshiner but this has not been confirmed.

At the time of the 1910 Census, Doss was living with his older sister, Ethel, and her husband, William Renner, in Roger Mills County in far western Oklahoma. Thomas Perry has not been found in that census, neither has his half-brother Albert. It is presumed that Thomas was in the area of Mannford or Keystone since he is presumed to have fathered Tommy Alexander who was born in February, 1911.

By 1917, Thomas had moved back to Texas, living in Archer County, and working as a cowboy on the Waggoner Ranch. In the 1920 Census, Albert was living with his wife, Callie, and their son in Mannford. Doss was not found in the 1920 Census but apparently he and Albert kept in contact with each other.

In 1921, Doss married Emma Marie Vanderpoll and they had two sons before 1930. Most of this time, they lived in Oklahoma City but, by 1930, they had moved to Binger, Oklahoma. Binger is west and south of Oklahoma City and just south of Hinton, Oklahoma. In 1930, Albert and his wife, Callie, and their son, Raymond, continued to live in Mannford.

By 1935, Doss and Albert both had moved to the McCloud/Dale area in Pottawatomie County. Doss had his wife and two sons with him but Albert had left Callie and their son, Raymond, in Mannford. No record of a divorce has been found. While living in Pottawatomie County, however, Albert either married a second time or took a common-law wife. Her name was Ida May (or Mae) McCartney. She had a son, Merlyn, who was born about 1921, and a daughter, Delores, born about 1926. The identity of their father is unknown but they took Albert’s last name and were listed in census records as Merlyn and Delores Wyatt.

During the mid- to late-1930’s, the depression had worsened to the point that many Oklahomans were leaving and going to California. Albert Wyatt and Doss Porter joined this migration and moved to Riverbank in Stanislaus County. Doss was still married to Emma but Albert had his new family with him. According to family members, Albert and Doss were always close and these moves confirm that relationship.

Albert died in 1949 at 70 years of age. His second wife, Ida May, remarried to a man whose surname was Blackwood. She died in 1997.

Doss’s wife, Emma, died in 1950 at 50 years of age and Doss remarried a woman named Bessie Pitts. He died in 1976 at the age of 77.

Callie Wyatt, Albert’s first wife, remained in the Mannford area for the rest of her life and is remembered for her gardening skills. She apparently was always surrounded by beautiful plants and flowers. She died in 1973 at age 91 and is buried in Oilton, Oklahoma.

A Chance Meeting

 It's strange that a chance meeting of only a few minutes can alter your life forever.  Such a meeting happened to me on September 15, 1973.

We lived in east Tulsa at the time.  I was returning home by myself, probably from my parents' house in Mannford, and was driving my wife's yellow Ford Ranchero.  As I negotiated the north leg of the Inner Dispersal Loop, I was following a fairly new Dodge or Plymouth sedan pulling a U-Haul trailer.

As we approached the Denver Avenue overpass, the U-Haul began to whip violently from side to side and, in an instant, came completely around and struck the side of the sedan which was towing it.  I had seen this kind of behavior from trailers myself.  It is caused by not having enough tongue weight on the hitch - in other words, the load is too far back in the trailer.

Ollie Lamont Friend was born on December 22, 1918 in Goodman, Missouri, a small town in the southwest corner of the state.  He grew up there and, on Valentine's Day, 1939, he married his sweetheart, Vera Grace Martin.  Ollie and Vera continued to live in southwest Missouri for some time but eventually moved to Tulsa, probably because of job opportunities.

The Friends were returning to their home in Tulsa after visiting their daughter and son-in-law in San Antonio.  The daughter had given them a window air conditioner for their home but it wouldn't fit in the sedan they were driving so they rented a U-Haul trailer to carry it in.  Ironically, they were less than two miles from home when the trailer began oscillating.

The car and trailer came to a stop in the middle lanes of the expressway directly over Denver Avenue.  I pulled my car off to the side and got out to help.  By this time, traffic began to come to a halt and there was a minor secondary collision behind us where someone had not gotten stopped in time and rear ended the car in front of them.

I walked over to the Friends' car and saw that the trailer, when it came around wildly, had struck the rear fender of their car and pushed it in against their tire.  Not wanting to ruin his tire, Mr. Friend retrieved a tire wrench from the trunk of his car and was trying to pry the fender away from the tire.

While he was attempting to pry the fender out, Mrs. Friend cautioned him against too much exertion, mentioning that he had a heart condition.  When she said that, I told Mr. Friend to give me the tire wrench and I would pry it out.  He handed it to me and stepped back.

All of a sudden, I was struck by something and found myself laying on the pavement about ten feet from where I had been kneeling.  It was such a surreal moment!  I looked around and saw Mrs. Friend lying against their car, moaning.  Mr. Friend was lying on the pavement about twenty feet from me, lifeless, with blood all around him.

As I was trying to make sense of all this, an ambulance was backing up to the scene.  The EMT's attended to the Friends and put them in the ambulance for transport.  As this was happening, a young man walked up and asked if anyone knew what he had hit.  He had been riding a 125cc motorcycle and hit something which knocked his glasses off.

I surmise that the motorcyclist was distracted by the secondary collision behind us and was looking at it and never saw us.  It would appear that he struck Mr. Friend first, knocking him into both me and Mrs. Friend.  I had what I thought was a sprained ankle and I found out later that Mrs. Friend suffered a broken arm and some broken ribs.

Soon a Highway Patrolman was on the scene and had the motocyclist and me in his patrol car.  That's when he told us that Mr. Friend did not survive, something that I had already suspected.  The name of the motorcyclist has been long forgotten, if I ever knew it at all.

When the Trooper released us, I drove home to tell Louise all about what had happened.  By the time I had gotten home, I was really in pain and my ankle was swelling so I had her drive me to the hospital emergency room.  The staff x-rayed my ankle and, sure enough, it was broken so they put me in a cast.

I did talk to Mrs. Friend several times after the accident and, as might be expected, she was very upset.  The motorcyclist had not gotten even a ticket; the Trooper said that we did not have adequate traffic control set up after the trailer had jackknifed.  Also, she was dismayed that the motorcyclist never contacted her to apologize or ask how she was recovering.

As for myself, my recovery was uneventful.  I was in the cast for six weeks and then it was cut off.  My office was very near that of the General Manager, Les O'Donoghue who had his own private bath.  He insisted that I use it while I was in the cast so that I wouldn't have to walk all the way down the hall to the main mens' room.

One funny thing did happen out of this.  Louise and I, along with another two couples, went dancing one evening while I had my cast on.  While we were dancing, I heard a man at a nearby table say "Damn, I've seen tough places before but I've never seen this!", referring to me dancing with my cast.

As I grow older and begin to contemplate my own mortality, I'm reminded of those who have already passed.  Although I didn't know Ollie and Vera Friend, the intersection of our lives left a lasting impression.  Mrs. Friend passed away on November 5, 2006 at the age of 85.  She never remarried after her husband's death.

Heart Surgery

In late 2018, I had a regular checkup with my cardiologist, Dr. Kacere.  After a few minutes of checking me and talking, he got up to leave.  On his way out the door, he paused and turned around.  "Would you be interested in a procedure to allow you to quit taking warfarin?", he asked.

I replied that I would indeed.  He explained to me that a small device called a Watchman© would be inserted into my heart and close off the left atrial appendage.  Yeah, I know, it is gobbledygook to me too.

After a bit more discussion, I told him that we were leaving for South Texas for the winter and would return in April.  He told me to give his scheduler a call when I got back and we would see about doing it, which I did.

The procedure consisted of having a small device, roughly the shape of a parachute, into my heart to close off that appendage.  On May 16, I checked into St. John's Hospital to have it done.  As far as I know, it went off without a hitch!

I've got a couple of followup visits scheduled.  If anything bad happens, I'll let you know (if I'm able).

The Wilson "66" Ranch

It's amazing how fast time gets away from you.  I haven't posted anything here in months!  I've been busy lately doing research on the Wilson "66" ranch which was located in Archer City, Texas, and my hometown, Mannford, Oklahoma.  Here is a copy of what I've learned.

History of The Wilson “66” Ranch

The Wilson, or 66, Ranch had it’s beginnings in Archer County, Texas in about 1882 when the 099 Ranch, owned by J.H. Stone, was divided into three parcels and sold to three different people.

Before white settlers came to Archer County, the only people there were Indians from several tribes, including Apaches, Comanches, and Kiowas. The first permanent white settler was Dr. R.O. Prideaux who moved to Archer County in 1874. Dr. Prideaux was originally from England and had made scouting trips to the Archer County area before his permanent move there.

The late 1870’s saw a host of ranches spring up in the area because the grass was good and land prices were cheap. One rancher of that time bought eight sections (over 5000 acres) for a total of $14.00! By the time of the 1880 Census, 596 people lived in the county, along with 56,000 head of cattle and 1400 sheep.

The 099 Ranch consisted of 130,000 acres in the northern part of Archer County.. When it was divided, Luke Wilson purchased the western part, consisting of 61,000 acres and it became the 66 Ranch. The center section became the TL Ranch and the eastern part was purchased by the Files Cattle and Land Company.

Luke Ferrell Wilson was born in 1842 in Palestine, Illinois. His father, Isaac Newton Wilson, was a well-to-do farmer who had moved to Illinois from Virginia. In fact, the 1860 Census listed Isaac’s personal estate at $10,000 and his real estate holdings at $35,000, a huge sum in those days.

Luke was the fifth child of ten born to Isaac and his wife, Hannah Decker Wilson. All eight of the children who lived to maturity received educations and became prominent in their communities. One of his sibings, Edward S. Wilson, became a lawyer and his children would figure strongly in the 66 Ranch.

Luke’s college education has not been documented but in 1869 he married Sarah Ellen “Nell” McCrory while still living in Illinois. By 1880, he had moved to Kansas City and was working as an investment banker. In fact, he was listed as the Secretary of the National Bank of Commerce in Kansas City in some documents. During the period from the 1880’s to the 1920’s, he variously listed his occupation as cattle and land dealer, office, stockman, and investments.

No documentation has been found concerning Luke Wilson’s purchase of the 66 Ranch. However, the name of the ranch came about because of the previous name, the 099. It is said that he just turned the brand over to become the 66.

After Wilson’s purchase of the ranch, Allen H. Harmer became the foreman. Cowboys working for Parmer included Milton Walker Alexander (later nicknamed “Cap” Alexander), Jim and Pie Baker, Ed, Eph, and George Brown, John McCluskey, Lee McMurtry, and several others.

The mid-1880’s were especially harsh with a blizzard-drought-blizzard series in 1885 through 1887. In fact, some ranches in the area didn’t survive this harsh series of events. The 66 Ranch did, however, and in the late 1880’s and the decade of the 1890’s it thrived.

Allen Parmer, the foreman of the Ranch, had an interesting and checkered background. He had been a member of the infamous Quantrill’s Raiders guerrilla group during the Civil War and had been wounded five times in battles. He finally surrendered to Federal authorities in July, 1865, in Kentucky.

After attending a business college for two years, Parmer married Susan James, sister of Frank and Jesse James. His association with the James brothers haunted him for years and he was arrested on several charges, including train robbery, but never convicted. However, the story is told that he was once backed down by a Mrs. F. Matthews who was wielding a shotgun. He had come to her house to run her off but she had other thoughts.

In the late 1890’s, Luke Wilson decided to take a herd of cattle into Indian Territory where they would be fattened up and shipped by rail to Kansas City. He sent Cap Alexander, along with 5000 steers, north from Archer City. In the 1900 Census, Alexander was in Indian Territory just southwest of Haskell where he listed his occupation as “cowboy”.

Milton Walker Alexander was born in Dallas County, Missouri, in 1857. He was one of five children, three boys and two girls born to James Orville Alexander and Malinda Bradford Alexander. Both of his parents were from Tennessee but had migrated to Missouri in the 1850’s. Milton’s nickname, “Cap” or “Captain” came about after his arrival in Mannford, Oklahoma. He was so called because he was the foreman or “captain” of the ranch at Mannford.

Soon after 1900, Cap Alexander arrived in Mannford with the 66 Ranch cattle. Land arrangements are unknown but it is surmised that Luke Wilson leased land from the local Indians to run his cattle on. Prior to statehood in 1907, Indian land was not available for purchase.

The ranch at Mannford is said to have stretched from Mannford on the north to Bristow on the south, a large tract indeed. The headquarters of the Ranch was located very near where Mannford City Lake’s dam is now.

In about 1906, Cap Alexander married Mary May Stephens, 24 years younger than him. She was born in 1881, the daughter of James Stephens and Mary Melinda Hall Stephens. Stephens was a local blacksmith and their family had migrated from Missouri. She was working in a laundry in Mannford and caught Cap’s eye after taking in his laundry.

Cap and May had two children, Beulah in 1907, and Tommy in 1911. The ranch headquarters house had burned down in late 1910, so they were living in Kellyville on another part of the ranch when Tommy was born. Shortly after his birth, the ranch house was rebuilt and the family returned to the Mannford area. The rebuilt house was moved into Mannford after the town was moved. It still stands there today.

In 1915, Cap Alexander bought his own small place near the site of today’s “Coyote Corner” at the intersection of State Highway 51 and Coyote Trail. Although he continued to work with the Wilson’s when needed, he was no longer the foreman. The identity of his successor is unknown.

Towns within the main ranch in Archer County included Luke Wilson (or Wilson Switch), named for the ranch’s owner. Wilson Switch consisted of cattle pens, a school, a land office, and a house which Luke Wilson had built for his nephew, Glenn, to live in. Glenn was the nephew of Edward Wilson, an attorney, and Luke’s brother. Because Luke and Nell never had children, he had chosen Glenn to be his “hands on” representative at the ranch in Archer County. Although Glenn was born in Illinois, he had moved to the ranch when he was a young man, sometime before 1910. Glenn did travel frequently to Mannford to advise and assist Cap Alexander on the operations of the ranch.

Another town which sprang up within the confines of the Wilson Ranch was the town of Geraldine. In 1901, a newspaper publisher from Indianapolis, Mr. Philander H. Fitzgerald, decided to invest in real estate “out west”. He was going to start a new colony and sell tract of land to add to his fortune. After much looking, he found the Wilson Ranch and worked out an agreement with Luke Wilson to purchase it. By 1904, however, the “ponzi” scheme had collapsed. Mr. Wilson had sold his land to Fitzgerald for $3 an acre (in cash) and bought it back for $1 per acre. Geraldine became a ghost town.

In the years of 1914-15, oil exploration came to the Wilson Ranch. Although there were no huge fields found, there was a considerable number of discoveries and Luke Wilson increased his wealth from this. Little is known about the demise of the ranch but Mr. Wilson died in early 1928 and it can be surmised that the ranch was sold off shortly after his death.

People of the Wilson Ranch

This is a short biography of some of the people who were involved with the Wilson Ranch, both in Archer County and in Mannford. Some of them have been mentioned previously. They are listed in alphabetical order.

Alexander, Milton Walker “Cap” – For several years after he left the employ of the Wilson Ranch, he did quite well with his ranch near State Highway 51 and Coyote Trail. His marriage to Mary May was tumultuous, however, and she left him sometime around 1925. She married a man by the name of Charley Griffey, from Lenepah, and they moved to the Grove area. Many years later, through DNA testing, it was discovered that Cap was not the father of their son, Tommy. Tom Porter, a cowboy on the Wilson Ranch at Mannford was his true father. Whether Cap was the father of their daughter, Beulah, is unknown. Cap lost his entire savings in the crash of 1929, and lived with his daughter, Beulah, and her husband until his death in 1935.

Alexander, Tommy Herman Milton Walker – Ironically, he was named after two of the cowboys on the Wilson Ranch at Mannford, Tom Porter (his true father) and Herman Weer. Tommy lived in the Mannford area on and off all his life and worked as a drilling rig mechanic. He died in 2004 at the age of 93.

Craven, Earl Been – Earl was a cowboy on the Wilson Ranch at Mannford but little is known about his tenure there. He was born in Missouri but lived in the Mannford area all his life. He died in 1983. Two of his grandsons, Larry and Gary, still live there today.

Henkell, David Casper “Buster” - Buster was a cowboy on the ranch at Mannford and his wife, Sarah Leanna Ihrig, was a cook. He was born in Kansas in 1889 and his family moved to the Mannford area before 1907. After Cap Alexander left the Wilson Ranch, Buster stayed with him and worked on the ranch at Keystone. He died in 1957 in Oklahoma City at the age of 68. He is buried at Oak Hill Cemetery in Mannford.

Ihrig, Ernest “Twenty” - He was born in 1892 in Tahlequah and moved to the Mannford area with his parents between 1900 and 1910. He was nicknamed “twenty” because of his short stature and because he was always seen with Cap Alexander, who always wore a .44 caliber revolver. Ernest was a brother to Sarah Leanna Ihrig, Buster Henkell’s wife, and a first cousin to Tommy Alexander. After his stint as a cowboy, he went to work in the booming oilfields as a roughneck. In about 1931, an accident on a drilling rig cost him three fingers on his right hand. In spite of this injury, he could roll a Bull Durham cigarette with two fingers better than most men with five. Ernest died in 1951 and he and his wife, Ivy, are both buried at Oak Hill Cemetery in Mannford.

Ihrig, Sarah Leanna – Previously mentioned, “Lee” was the wife of Buster Henkell, a sister of Ernest Ihrig, and a niece of Mary May Stephens Alexander. She was born in 1902 in Mannford, the daughter of Francis Marion “Frank” Ihrig and Mahala Stephens Ihrig. Mahala, who was called “Hailie”, was a sister of Mary May Stephens Alexander, Cap Alexander’s wife. Apparently Lee and Buster co-habitated for some time before they were married because they presented themselves as sister and brother. She served as a cook for the Wilson Ranch for several years and, when Cap Alexander left to start his own spread, she went with her husband to work for him.

James, Susan Lavenia – Susan was born in Missouri in 1849 and died in Wichita Falls, Texas, in 1889. She was the youngest of four children born to this family and the only girl. Two of her siblings were Alexander Franklin “Frank” James and Jesse Woodson James, the famous outlaws. She married Allen Parmer in Missouri in 1870 and shortly after that moved to the Archer City, Texas, area.

McCluskey, John B. – John, or “Uncle” John, as many people called him, was Glen Wilson’s number two man on the Wilson Ranch. Like many of the other people of the ranch, he was born in Missouri, in 1854. He would often travel with Glen Wilson to Mannford to discuss the operation of the ranch with Cap Alexander. McCluskey died in 1934 in Archer City.

McCrory, Luke Wilson – Luke was a nephew of Sarah Ellen “Nell” Wilson and was born in 1881 in Cooke County, Texas. After leaving home just after the turn of the century, he moved to Arkansas and became a banker. Sometime before 1930, he moved back to Wichita Falls and became a trustee of the Luke Wilson Estate. He figured prominently in the affairs of the estate.

McCrory, Sarah Ellen “Nell” - Nell was born in 1845 in Charleston, Illinois, very near where Luke Ferrell Wilson, her future husband lived. She was the third of seven children born to James and Mary McCrory. Like most people of that time, McCrory was a farmer. Nell married Luke in 1869 and soon after they moved to Kansas City. The couple never had children and she died in 1927 in the Kansas City area.

McMurtry, Lee – After the breakup of the 099 Ranch in 1882, McMurtry became the foreman of the Files Cattle and Land Company, one of the three offsprings of the 099. Later he went to work for Allen Parmer on the Wilson 66 Ranch. There were many McMurtry’s around the Archer City area and details about Lee are sketchy. One of Archer City’s most prominent natives was Larry McMurtry, a well-known writer and movie producer.

Parmer, Allen Hazard – Allen Parmer was born in 1848 in Missouri and, after his stint as a member of Quantrill’s Raiders during the Civil War, moved to Clay County, Texas, the county joining Archer County on the east. By 1889 he had quit working for the Wilson Ranch and had gone into farming for himself. In 1905, he gave up farming and went into the railroad construction business. He retired in 1920 and died in Wichita Falls in 1927.

Peacock, Curtis Eugene - Born in 1902 in Joplin, Missouri, his family moved to Mannford before 1910. His tenure at the Wilson Ranch is unknown but probably was in the late 1910’s and early 1920’s. He and his wife had five children and he died in 1987. He is interred, along with his wife, at Oak Hill Cemetery in Mannford.

Porter, Thomas Perry Sr. - Tom Perry was born in Austin, Texas in 1888. When he was 13 and living with his family in the Chickasaw Nation in Indian Territory, he ran away from home to escape an abusive father. He came to Keystone, Oklahoma, and was taken in by a Zickefoose family, who enrolled him in Keystone School in the fourth grade. In his late teens, he went to work as a cowboy for Cap Alexander on the Wilson Ranch. In 1910, he apparently had a tryst with Cap Alexander’s wife, May, and the result of this was Tommy Alexander. In later years, Tommy stated that he was named after Tom Porter and Herman Weer, two cowboys on the Wilson Ranch. Sometime after 1910, Tom Porter moved to Archer County and was a cowboy on the Wilson Ranch there. By 1920, he had married and left the Ranch. He worked at several other ranches before opening a tack and saddle shop in Seymour, Texas. He died there in 1974.

Stephens, Mary May – May was born in 1881 and her first marriage was to Joseph Henry Pendergraft. Two children resulted from this marriage, Gertha and Clarence. Mr. Pendergraft died in 1902. Both children were born in Missouri but shortly after Clarence’s birth, the family moved to Mannford where May’s sister, Mahala, was living. Gertha later married Arthur Bellis, the oldest son of Bill and Charity Bellis. May met Cap Alexander, they married and lived in Mannford for several years. She eventually divorced Cap and married a man from Lenapah, Charley Griffey. They moved to the Grove area for several years. For some reason, this marriage didn’t work either and May returned to the Mannford area, taking her Alexander name back. She died in Bristow in 1967 and is buried at Oak Hill Cemetery in Mannford.

Weer, John Herman – Herman was born in 1887 in Labette, Kansas. His parents had moved there from Indiana. Before his 10^th birthday the family had moved to Muskogee, Indian Territory. In 1896, his father, John Emmett Weer, went to court in Muskogee to get the members of the family put on the Creek Nation rolls. This effort failed. John Emmett was a store owner and at one point there was a settlement east of Bixby and south of Broken Arrow by the name of Weer. In 1917, when Herman registered for the draft, he was living in Mannford. He listed his employer as L.F. Wilson and place of employment as the Wilson Ranch. Before 1920, Luke Wilson asked him to go to Archer City and manage the dairy that the ranch was then starting. He did move there and lived in Archer City as late as 1942. Herman Weer died in Collinsville, Oklahoma in 1978 at the age of 91.

Wilson, Glenn Sylvester – Glenn was the son of Edward Wilson, Luke Wilson’s brother, and the on site family representative to the Wilson Ranch. He was born in 1872 in Illinois and married Dora Eckenrode there. Sometime before 1910, they moved to Archer County when he went to work for Luke Wilson. Glenn and John McCluskey would often travel to Mannford to confer with Cap Alexander. After Luke Wilson’s death and the demise of the ranch, Glenn moved back to Illinois and bought a farm. He died in 1938 in St. Louis.

Wilson, Luke Ferrell – Little remains to be said about him. He was obviously a very successful business man and those who knew and worked for him were quick to offer praises for his compassion and understanding. He died on May 17, 1928, and is interred in Charleston, Illinois, his hometown.

Our European Cruise

This was my second cruise in three weeks!

If you read my previous post, five of us guys went down the Arkansas River to Greenville, Mississippi.  We had been home for a week when Louise and I went on a cruise on the Seine River from Paris to Le Havre and back.

About a year ago, some friends from South Texas started talking about this trip.  Louise and I decided to join them and we bought our tickets.  As usual, I didn't do any trip planning until the day before (one of my traits which doesn't serve me well)!

We left Tulsa on October 10 and had an uneventful (read that "boring") trip to De Gaulle  Airport in Paris.  After the trip was over, Louise and I both told each other we would never fly across the pond again without at least Business Class seats!  Steerage is so cramped and uncomfortable that it's almost unbearable.

When we got to Paris, we discovered a somewhat major problem - our luggage hadn't made the flight.  We filled out the necessary paperwork and left for our ship.  For four days, Louise and I wore the same clothes we had flown in to Paris.  In fact, it got to be a standing joke on the ship that Edd and Louise were wearing their same clothes again!  I did manage to buy some underwear and socks a couple of days out.  By the way, French mens' underwear don't have flys but that's another story.  Finally, after four days our luggage caught up with us and we were happy campers!

The cruise line we were on, Vantage Travel, did all they could to make our trip enjoyable, as did Sandy and Gregg who were our group organizers.

Our ship, the River Venture, was a typical European river ship and held 138 passengers and the crew.  I think the crew numbered about 30.  One of the neatest things about a cruise like this is that you get to know a lot of people, most of the people on the ship, in fact.  There were 19 people in our group, only four of which Louise and I knew before the trip started.  By the end of the cruise, we were all good friends.

Our ship sailed from Paris to Le Havre and back.  As the crow flies, that's only a distance of about 120 miles.  As the Seine River meanders, and taking time for adventures, it took us 12 days for the round trip.

The list of things we got to see and do is too long to include in this blog but I'll hit just a couple of the highlights.  First, and most importantly, was the tour of Omaha Beach and the American Cemetery there.  It really is hard to imagine what happened there on June 6, 1944.  I would compare it to visiting the National Park at Gettysburg.

One thing that always stands out when we travel in Europe is how much older their culture is than ours.  We spent quite a bit of time touring cathedrals and other buildings which were built before Columbus discovered America.  It's hard to imagine!  We ate lunch one day at a Michelin rated restaurant in Rouen which was established in 1345!

We returned to Paris on October 20 and spent two days there at a dock within sight of the Eiffel Tower.  Paris was okay but we really enjoyed all the smaller villages we had seen along the river.  I did get a good picture of the Eiffel Tower, though.

Louise and I had a great time but, as we get older, we begin to worry about what might happen if we had health issues while traveling like this.  We aren't sure we will ever go to Europe again but, if we don't, this was a heck of a way to end our continental travels!

Another River Trip

I have no idea why we do things like this but four other guys and I just returned from a five day trip down the Arkansas River.

This was my third time down the river, having gone once in September, 2003, and again in August, 2005.  The first two trips were made with a good friend, Foster Harness.  Unfortunately, Foster is not around to make any more river trips.  I think he must have been looking down on us.

There were five of us in two boats.  In my boat was my son, Dan,and a good friend, R.B.  In the other boat was my brother, Milt, and his friend, Bill.  Dan was not going to be able to meet up with us until the next day.  We left last Wednesday, September 26, from Bluff Landing which is east of Broken Arrow about 10 miles on 71st Street.  Both times before, we left from this landing so that we could say we went through every lock on the Arkansas River.

We got off to a somewhat late start so, after cruising all day, we decided to spend the night at Applegate Marina on Kerr Reservoir near Sallisaw.  The operator of the marina was a most gracious man who offered to let us camp for the evening in his pavilion.  We had running water, electricity, and a bathroom.  It just doesn't get much better than that!

On Thursday, we cruised all day and went through several locks.  We decided to quit early, about 2:30, and found a place at Aux Arc Park near Ozark, Arkansas.  Again, we had water and electricity, along with a bath house which was a good 200 yard hike down the road.  Dan showed up with my truck and the boat trailer, which we left parked there for Louise and Teresa to pick up the following day.

To explain this a little better, let me stop here and tell you what our plan was.  The five guys were going to travel all the way to Greenville, MS.  My wife, Louise, and R.B.'s wife, Teresa, were going to leave home on Friday, pick up my truck and trailer wherever Dan left it, and then meet us in Little Rock on Friday evening.  On Saturday morning, the wives would travel to Greenville, MS, where we would meet and trailer the boats back to Oklahoma.

On Friday morning, the crew got up and headed downriver again.  The first stretch was Lake Dardanelle, a run of 51 miles.  At 30mph, that took a while.  Then, when we got to Dardanelle Lock, we ran into our first obstruction.  A barge tow had just started locking through and we had to wait about 2 1/2 hours to get through the lock.  This put us really behind schedule, since we were to meet the wives in Little Rock.

Finally, about 6:30 pm, we got to Rock Harbor Marina in Little Rock, and met up with the women, who had already gotten us checked in to their B&B.  We did go out to a restaurant to eat that night but the food wasn't a bit better than R.B. had been preparing on the river bank.

Saturday morning we said goodbye to the women and headed out again.  There was a lot of fog early so we didn't get a really early start.  We had a 13 mile run to the next lock where things really went sour.  We were behind a barge tow going downstream and, when he was finished, they locked through another barge tow heading upstream.  I don't remember how long we waited there (mostly because I consumed a large amount of whiskey) but it was a long time.

We wound up spending the night just below the Emmett Sanders Lock, No. 4, on a sand bar.  This was at Mile 66 and I had hoped to get to Mile 10, so we were behind schedule about 56 miles.  Sunday morning, everyone was ready to get home.  Although nothing was said, all the gear was packed and loaded in the boats by 7:30 am and we headed out again.  We had 66 miles left on the Arkansas River and about 40 miles on the Mississippi to get to Greenville.

At least on Sunday, we caught the locks better!  In fact, two of them were open when we got to them.  We finally got to Greenville about 2:00 pm and rendezvoused with Teresa and Louise.  Eight hours later, after a long drive, we got back home.

The burning question I ask myself is, would I do it again?  At 72, my old bones don't take sleeping on the ground as well as they used to.  I guess the answer is, we'll have to wait and see.  We saw a lot of amazing sights along the way and got to spend some precious time with friends and relatives.  All in all, it was an enjoyable trip.  Here is a picture that Dan took that pretty well sums it up.