Bob Langston worked in Personnel when I was hired at
Vickers. He told me that they were
really looking for a graduate engineer with three years of sales experience
but, since they were only paying $590 per month, they would take me. That really made me feel loved and wanted.
Pres Whitson was the Personnel Manager, Bob’s boss. Pres interviewed me as well and kept asking
me if I would transfer if the occasion arose.
I kept telling him that, of course, I would. I found out later that he was against hiring
me because he was convinced that I would not move. A year later I proved him wrong. On June 4, 1970, I went to work for Vickers.
Louise and I had moved into a very nice house at 43rd
St. North and Cincinnati Ave. in Tulsa when we first moved there. It was much better than we had expected to be
able to afford and, sure enough, we couldn't. After about
90 days, I had to tell our landlord that we couldn't afford to make the $125
per month rent and that we were going to have to move. We moved into an 8’ by 46’ trailer house at 6619 East King Street.
Before we moved, however, we had one experience which was
somewhat funny. Kenneth Moser, the guy I
had tried to join the Police Department with, had a beat which covered my
home. He called me one night and asked
if he could come by and drink a cup of coffee.
I told him I would be delighted and he said that he would bring one of
his cohorts by. In a little while,
Kenneth showed up in his black-and-white and his partner followed him in in
another black-and-white. We all went
inside and sat there for about 30 minutes drinking coffee when Kenneth
announced that they had to go back to work.
When we opened the front door, the yard was full of people! All the neighbors saw the police cars and
thought that these white people had done something terribly wrong!
My first job at Vickers Tulsa Division was inside
sales. This company had started out in
1929 as the Tulsa Winch Manufacturing Corporation by Mr. Harley Pray. It had been on the east side of downtown
Tulsa for many years and had moved into the former Hale-Halsell warehouse on
East Pine Street in December, 1968.
Mr. Pray started Tulsa Winch by making winches out of the
rear ends of Model T trucks. The gears
used on those rear ends are very similar to the gears made today by Tulsa
Winch. When he ran out of used gears he
had to start making his own. The company
grew and prospered and, in fact, won the U.S. Navy’s coveted “E” award for
excellence during World War II.
In 1946, Mr. Pray decided to retire and sold the company to
Vickers Hydraulics, a division of Remington Rand Co. Harry Vickers had pioneered automotive
hydraulics in Detroit and had built Vickers into the World’s premier hydraulics
company. Later Remington and Sperry
merged and formed Sperry Rand Corporation.
Sperry Rand was most noted for building the World’s first true computer,
the Eniac.
Enough of company history.
My job was to answer phones, take orders, expedite customer shipments,
and field complaints. There were four
inside guys at the time: Garry Strouse, Fred Lamar, Bill Lewis, and me. We had a supervisor, Johnny Kirk, and two
secretaries, Janice Bain and Sherry Richardson.
It took me about two weeks to get up enough nerve to start answering the
phone but I caught on quickly after that.
I’m convinced that having a farm background really helps in learning
mechanical things.
There were three outside guys who worked out of that office
as well. They were Bernie Jiles, Jack
West, and Chuck Bookout. Bookout
probably knew more about the technical aspects of our product line than anyone
else. When I would get a tough call, I
would ask him to take it and he would always refuse. It infuriated me but it did cause me to have
to go to engineering and find out the correct answers for myself. I became a better salesman because of his
attitude.
Our general manager at the time was Russ Dupuis, an
old-school manager who came into our sales office every day and looked at the
sales sheet on Garry Strouse’s desk.
Russ had been with Vickers for many years and at Tulsa for about
10. He retired in 1971, just a year
after I went to work there. The
Marketing Manager was Chet Lenik, a Polish guy from Detroit. When I first went to work at Vickers, he
called me into his office and told me that if I heard any good Polish jokes he
wanted to hear them.
Louise and I really enjoyed this time in our lives. We were newlyweds, out on our own, and having
a good time. Louise worked at the
Braum’s Ice Cream Store just around the corner from our trailer and I was
having a good time in my new job. We
also met our good friends, Jerry and Marlene McCain, while living in the mobile
home park.
Like us, they were just good country people, he from Jackson,
Tennessee, and she from Jacksonville, Florida.
Jerry had been in the Navy and had met Marlene while stationed in
Jacksonville. After they married, they
moved to Tulsa so he could attend Spartan School of Aeronautics. He wanted to get his A & P (airframe and
powerplant) license so he could become an aircraft mechanic.
We had a wonderful time living next door to Jerry and
Marlene. One Sunday morning, Louise made
some biscuits from scratch and they didn't come out quite right. In fact, they were terrible. Well, I called Jerry and told him to meet me
out in the yard. We played a game of
catch with the biscuits and not one of them ever broke!
Eventually, an opening in outside sales came up, this time
in Detroit. This was a major promotion
and most people would have killed for it.
Of the four of us, one, Garry Strouse, had made it clear in the past
that he would not transfer. For some
reason, the company didn’t want to offer Bill Lewis the job, so that left Fred
Lamar and me. Fred had seniority on me
so they kept offering the job to him. I
wanted it badly so I kept badgering Estill Sherrill, the Sales Manager, for the
job. Finally, they decided that Fred
just was not going to move, so they told me I had the job.
Being transferred from Tulsa to Detroit meant a raise from
$690 per month (I had gotten a couple of raises) to $850 per month. All of our friends told us that we would hate
living in Detroit but the job opportunity was too good to pass up. In early June, 1971, while the company was on
strike, Louise and I moved to Detroit.
We found a small apartment at the corner of 14 Mile Road and
John R., in Troy. If you are familiar
with Detroit, you know that the northernmost boundary of the city is 8 Mile
Road, so we were six miles north of there.
Troy was a fairly young, growing suburb, and we were happy to be living
there. There was a giant mall across the
road from our house, Oakland Mall, and just about everything you could think of
was within close proximity.
Louise quickly got a job at a card shop in the Mall, Memory
Lane, and developed a bunch of new friends.
I am convinced that this was the reason we liked Detroit so much. We both had new jobs and were meeting new
people and everything was right.
The apartment complex we moved into was named Canterbury
Square. It consisted of several
buildings, each with eight units in it.
The day we moved into our building, not a single neighbor knew any of their
neighbors. However, within two weeks,
Louise and I knew everyone In the building and, within six weeks, everyone in
the building knew everyone else. I
really don’t give us credit for anything except being stupid enough to want to
meet everyone. Some of the neighbors
included Chuck Schiff (our accountant friend who lived upstairs), John and Mary
Bone, and Chuck and Sue Mowat. Mrs.
Cooper, a lonely widow, lived next door to Chuck Schiff.
One problem we had was that Louise did not know how to
drive. I’ve kidded her forever saying
that the next time I get married, the first question I’m going to ask the
prospective bride is whether she has a drivers license. Louise did not want to learn but I wanted her
to. We set a practice time for every
evening at 5:30 p.m. when I was in town.
After about 90 days, she was ready and took her test. She passed it with flying colors.
I was in outside sales and my territory was Indiana, Ohio,
Kentucky, West Virginia, and Virginia. I
worked out of an office at the Vickers Warehouse in Ferndale, about five miles
south of our apartment. I was assigned
to train under a fellow by the name of Dick Karr, who had been in outside sales
for Tulsa Winch for several years.
In retrospect, I was a very poor salesman at this time. I was definitely not assertive, which you
need to be, and I didn’t know the product line as well as I should. I was reluctant to travel much, because I didn’t
want to spend the Company’s money so I didn’t see my customers as often as I
should. In spite of all this, my bosses
thought I was doing a good job so they were happy with me.
After about a year and a half, we had a reorganization in
Tulsa and Jack West became my new boss.
Jack called me up one day and said he needed to talk to me and would
meet me at the airport that evening.
Well, if he was going to fly over 1000 miles just to have a meeting with
me at the airport, it had to be important!
When I met with him that evening, he told me that I was going to be
transferred and had my choice of Chicago or Tulsa. Inside I was screaming “Tulsa” but I played
it cool and told him I would have to talk to Louise.
Of course, Louise wanted to move back to Tulsa as well so we
took the transfer home. In October,
1972, we moved back to Tulsa, into an apartment building on Harvard just south
of Pine Street.
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