Category Archives: Down The Road

Welcome back, before last week the word slurry meant little to me but after my visit to New Mexico last week where I’ve been just outside Cimarron, I discovered that this red substance might just save your house from fire. I’m sure you’ve heard of the Black Forest fire in Colorado Springs. According to Miki Trost with the Colorado Division of Homeland Security and Emergency Management as of today 482 homes destroyed have been destroyed and two people have died as the result of this one fire which has burned over 15,500 acres.  With six other fires going on in Colorado approximately 30,000 acres have burned thus fire.

Although the numerous fires in New Mexico aren’t getting as much publicity as the Colorado fires, with the frequent drought in the area the risk of destruction is just as high.

I was staying just a few miles east of the Philmont Boy Scout Ranch at the UU Bar Ranch lodge and ended up a mile from the firefighter staging area for a nearby forest fire. Although the fire was burning at 10,000 ft. you could still see the flames from the lodge. You could also see the huge D.C. 10 air tankers that dropped the fire retardant gel which is super absorbent polymer slurry with a consistency like petroleum jelly. The slurry also contains a red dye which allows firefighters to track where they have dropped it. Each airplane holds 11,000 gallons of this material and they all made numerous flights on Friday and Saturday in my area. In an interview in the Denver Post  “10 Tanker Air Carrier” CEO Rick Hatton said the company has  also been making dumps in California, Nevada and Idaho where there are some major fires as well.

When I looked up the cost, I learned that each plane’s daily rate is $26,750 dollars plus an hourly flight rate of $4,550 dollars.  I also found out that federal agencies have contacts with dozens of small plane operators and hundreds of water carrying helicopter owners. During my stay I saw three of these helicopters flying all day, every day.

I spent one entire day at the staging area watching the firefighters in action. There were also over 180 firemen on foot, three large bulldozers, backhoes, several tanker trucks and road graders. I was told that many of the firefighters, both men and women, sleep at the base camp where there were thirty porta-johns, several portable showers and a delivery system for feeding everyone. The Rocky Mountain Area Coordination Center in Lakewood, Colorado is the focal point for mobilization of resources for wildland fires in the Rockies. According to the Center’s manager Jim Fletcher all the slurry and water that’s dropped does help but it’s the firefighters that put the fires out not the aircraft. “It boils down to the boots on the ground.”  he said.

Next week more from our neighbors in Colorado. Till then make sure to thank a firefighter and I’ll see you down the road.

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One of my favorite events, offering guests an opportunity to rub shoulders with some legendary western performers…..

                         Down The Road with the Original Buffalo Dale

 Welcome back.  Celebrating 52 years of keeping the Old West alive this week, I take my hat off to President Chuck Schroeder and his staff at the National Cowboy & Western Heritage Museum for a top notch show this past weekend.

It was the 2013 Western Heritage Awards in Oklahoma City which are held every year at what I still call the Cowboy Hall of Fame. The Awards recognize the accomplishments of actors, writers, poets, film makers and musicians who have celebrated western life and culture in their work.

Actor Lou Diamond Phillips and Board Member Wyatt McCrea were the Masters of Ceremonies. Some of you readers may remember that Wyatt is the grandson of the famous movie star Joel McCrea and was also a Bartlesville area resident as a youth. ConocoPhillips was one of the two Major Event sponsors along with Wrangler. Other sponsors with a tie to Bartlesville included Express Employment Professionals and the Oklahoma Ford Dealers. The Ford dealers sponsored the “Outstanding Documentary” award which went to The Dust Bowl, directed by Ken Burns. In addition to prominent actors and directors, there were many famous western writers, singers and songwriters at the awards including Red Stegall and Martin Martin Murphy.

A highlight of the evening was the induction of native Oklahoman Wes Studi into the Hall of Great Western Performers. I got a chance to visit with Wes and I learned that this guy has led a fascinating and eventful life.  Studi was born in 1946 in Nofire Hollow, Oklahoma .Until the age of five he spoke only Cherokee. Then he attended Chilocco Indian School where he learned English and graduated from high school. After high school he served in Vietnam and then went on to Tulsa Junior School where he was a founder of the first Cherokee newspaper. Studi’s acting career began in 1983 when he appeared with the American Indian Theater Company in Tulsa. His first movie role was in Pow Wow Highway in 1988, followed by the T.V. movie Longarm. His versatile career has included appearances in Dances with Wolves, The Last of the Mohicans, Heat and Avatar. Today Studi is also a sculptor, jazz guitarist and I understand a pretty good hand at tennis.  He speaks several languages and is recognized nationally as an expert on indigenous languages. Studi and his wife Maura Dhu, a singer and writer, have lived happily in Santa Fe for years. The couple frequently performs in the area with a local six piece band called Firecat of Discord.

Two other performers who were inducted posthumously may not be as familiar to most of you. Duncan Renaldo was born in 1904 most likely in Greece although he frequently said he wasn’t sure where he had been born. He was raised in Romania and worked his way to America shoveling coal on a ship. Renaldo was working as a set painter when he got his first big break in the movies with a role in The Bridge of San Luis Rey in 1927. He played both good guys and bad guys in dozens of films before becoming a major star in 1950 with his role in The Cisco Kid.

The other inductee is of course the Cisco Kid’s sidekick, Pancho. Leo Carillo had also worked his way up in the entertainment business before he too became a star in The Cisco Kid. His civic contributions are recognized today in California where several parks and highways are named after him. Both actors were honored with stars on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.

The late great actor Robert Mitchum, a favorite of mine, was also inducted into theHall of Great Western Performers. Although Mitchum died in 1997 in Santa Barbara, CA, his many wonderful films, including El Dorado with John Wayne, live on.

The Western Heritage Awards are always outstanding and next year I’ll be sure to give you plenty of notice before the event. Don’t forget that if you join the Western Heritage Museum, Gilgrease or Woolaroc, you automatically become a member of the other two organizations- what a deal!

Till next time, I’ll see ya down the road….

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Down The Road with the Original Buffalo Dale

 Welcome back.  Celebrating 52 years of keeping the Old West alive this week, I take my hat off to President Chuck Schroeder and his staff at the National Cowboy & Western Heritage Museum for a top notch show this past weekend.

It was the 2013 Western Heritage Awards in Oklahoma City which are held every year at what I still call the Cowboy Hall of Fame. The Awards recognize the accomplishments of actors, writers, poets, film makers and musicians who have celebrated western life and culture in their work.

Actor Lou Diamond Phillips and Board Member Wyatt McCrea were the Masters of Ceremonies. Some of you readers may remember that Wyatt is the grandson of the famous movie star Joel McCrea and was also a Bartlesville area resident as a youth. ConocoPhillips was one of the two Major Event sponsors along with Wrangler. Other sponsors with a tie to Bartlesville included Express Employment Professionals and the Oklahoma Ford Dealers. The Ford dealers sponsored the “Outstanding Documentary” award which went to The Dust Bowl, directed by Ken Burns. In addition to prominent actors and directors, there were many famous western writers, singers and songwriters at the awards including Red Stegall and Martin Martin Murphy.

A highlight of the evening was the induction of native Oklahoman Wes Studi into the Hall of Great Western Performers. I got a chance to visit with Wes and I learned that this guy has led a fascinating and eventful life.  Studi was born in 1946 in Nofire Hollow, Oklahoma .Until the age of five he spoke only Cherokee. Then he attended Chilocco Indian School where he learned English and graduated from high school. After high school he served in Vietnam and then went on to Tulsa Junior School where he was a founder of the first Cherokee newspaper. Studi’s acting career began in 1983 when he appeared with the American Indian Theater Company in Tulsa. His first movie role was in Pow Wow Highway in 1988, followed by the T.V. movie Longarm. His versatile career has included appearances in Dances with Wolves, The Last of the Mohicans, Heat and Avatar. Today Studi is also a sculptor, jazz guitarist and I understand a pretty good hand at tennis.  He speaks several languages and is recognized nationally as an expert on indigenous languages. Studi and his wife Maura Dhu, a singer and writer, have lived happily in Santa Fe for years. The couple frequently performs in the area with a local six piece band called Firecat of Discord.

Two other performers who were inducted posthumously may not be as familiar to most of you. Duncan Renaldo was born in 1904 most likely in Greece although he frequently said he wasn’t sure where he had been born. He was raised in Romania and worked his way to America shoveling coal on a ship. Renaldo was working as a set painter when he got his first big break in the movies with a role in The Bridge of San Luis Rey in 1927.

He played both good guys and bad guys in dozens of films before becoming a major star in 1950 with his role in The Cisco Kid.

The other inductee is of course the Cisco Kid’s sidekick, Pancho. Leo Carillo had also worked his way up in the entertainment business before he too became a star in The Cisco Kid. His civic contributions are recognized today in California where several parks and highways are named after him. Both actors were honored with stars on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.

The late great actor Robert Mitchum, a favorite of mine, was also inducted into the Hall of Great Western Performers. Although Mitchum died in 1997 in Santa Barbara, CA, his many wonderful films, including El Dorado with John Wayne, live on.

The Western Heritage Awards are always outstanding and next year I’ll be sure to give you plenty of notice before the event. Don’t forget that if you join the Western Heritage Museum, Gilgrease or Woolaroc, you automatically become a member of the other two organizations- what a deal!

Till next time, I’ll see ya down the road….

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Down The Road with the Original Buffalo Dale

Welcome back.  With tickets now on sale for Elder Care’s big fund raiser of the year, The Good, The Bad and The Barbeque I thought I’d focus on cowboy history this week and the life of a man who sure enough lived it.

Although Clem McSpadden died of complications from cancer on July 7, 2008 his influence lives on in the memories of his thousands of friends and the many stories that were written about him. A rodeo cowboy turned announcer turned politician turned businessman,  like his uncle Will Rogers Clem never forgot where he came from. Today he is buried less than a mile from where he was born. Long before there was a highway named after him and before his career in politics, Clem was just your average kid growing up on a farm, riding horses, hunting and fishing. In 1944 he signed up for the navy to support his country, reflecting a patriotism that continued until he died. Another pillar in his live was his family. He was married to Donna Casity on February 11, 1962 in the First Baptist Church in White Oak. The couple had one son and they traveled the world promoting rodeo and serving as good will ambassadors for Oklahoma.

I met Clem several years before he died while researching a writing project. When you were in his presence, you knew this man was special. Clem was the General Manager of the PRCA National Finals Rodeo in Oklahoma City, a State Senator from 1954-1972 and the founder of the Busheyhead Roping Arena where the world’s richest roping competition was started in 1975. Two years later the event expanded to become the world’s richest roping competition and western art show. Donna created the art show to entertain the wives who attended the rodeo. Their energy and vision was unstoppable and the event quickly exceeded their greatest expectations.

As an elected official,  Clem facilitated the construction of the McClellan-Kerr Waterway, working with the Oklahoma Water Resources to insure state participation in the huge federal government project. He also launched Reba McIntyre’s career when he hired her to sing the national anthem at the National Finals Rodeo.

One of Clem’s personal highlights is described in a new book about his life, Spring Will Come, the Life of Clem McSpadden by Bob Burke and Joan Rhine. In the book Clem’s widow Donna remembers a bull called Tornado and Clem’s friend, rodeo legend Freckles Brown. Tornado was an eleven year old, 1800 lb. bull with pitch black eyes. He had never been ridden and many cowboys just passed on their ride when they drew him. Tornado had thrown off over 200 riders by the time he met up with Freckles Brown at the Oklahoma City Rodeo in 1961.

Most people thought the 46 year old Brown would be the next rider to get tossed but not Clem. After announcing Brown’s successful eight second ride, Clem would claim that this was the greatest legend making event in rodeo history. Later singer-songwriter Red Steagall approached Clem for all the facts about the ride before writing his hit song, The Ballad of Freckles Brown.

I could write much more about Clem McSpadden but I’m about out of space. Before I go let me give you a scoop: Clem’s widow, whom I’ve also interviewed, will be a guest at the Elder Care barbeque this year. Donna is just as nice as Clem was and is always happy to visit. Till next time I’ll leave you with an excerpt from the cowboy prayer which became Clem’s signature:

“Help us, Lord, to live our lives in such a manner that when we make that last inevitable ride to the country up there, where the grass grows lush, green and stirrup high, and the water runs cool, clear and deep, that you, as our last Judge, will tell us that our entry fees are paid.”

With that I’ll see ya down the road..

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The following  excerpt from last week’s column profiles one of the many people who made their fortune in Bartlesville during the early days…

“The story begin in Bartlesvile in the early 1900s. Back then the town had about 3,500 residents, most of whom were living in tents. The Right Way Hotel was the only permanent structure in the community and on most days you could find a twelve- year- old boy standing on the corner in front of the hotel hawking Saturday Evening Post newspapers.

This boy was ambitious and after a $5 investment for 100 shares of oil lease lot number 50, which ran alongside Sand Creek near Ochelata, he changed jobs,. In 1910 he was working as a roustabout and then in 1911 his gamble paid off with a 100 barrel a day well came in on the first day of drilling on lot 50. He went on to drill 43 wells on this lease and hit oil all but once. By the age of 23 he had made his first million dollars and he went on to become the richest man in America. When he finally sold lot 50, the site had netted him $336,000 and started his career in the oil industry. You may have guessed that this man was J. Paul Getty…..”

                Early western movie stars with ties to Oklahoma………

                        Down The Road with the Original Buffalo Dale

 Welcome back. The date was October 12, 1940 when the 1937 Model 812 super charged Cord with the 170 horsepower and 3000 dollar price tag was towed in from Highway 89 not far outside of Florence, AZ.  The car and its famous cowboy actor driver were estimated to have been traveling at 80 miles an hour when it suddenly came upon a highway construction site. The car crashed through a barricade and went flying into a gulch where it flipped over, pinning the driver underneath. According to local coroner E.O. Divine, death was instantaneous.

At the funeral Rudy Vallee sang the driver’s favorite song, Empty Saddles as many famous movie people from the era, including William Fox, Jack Warner, Cecil B. DeMille, Louis B. Mayer, Harry Cary and Gene Autry, looked on.  By now most of you movie buffs know I’m talking about Tom Mix. His wife, Mabel Ward Mix, and his many friends knew Tom was a man who pushed himself hard. Although many were in shock at his death author Paul Mix writes that Tom himself would have wanted to “end fast.” In his book Tom Mix, Paul also states that Tom wanted to be remembered as a cowboy first.

I should mention here that two years later Tom’s horse Tony, who had been in many of his movies, died of old age at 40.

On December 5, 1947 a 7 ft. statue of a rider less horse was erected on the very spot where Tom died with this engraving: “In memory of Tom Mix whose spirit left his body on this spot and whose characterizations and portrayals in life served to better fix memories of the Old West in the minds of living men.”

Tom Mix was a hero to millions of people around the world. As a top billed movie star in his day, he could have become aloof but instead he never forgot where he came from or his early friends. While on tour, he would often visit children’s hospitals where he would make a large donation or appear at a fund raising event to help draw more people. His fame only increased with his death and today his memory is kept alive in our own Tom Mix Museum in Dewey where you can watch his films, see his fancy clothes and saddles and even look at old Tony who has been preserved for display.

You can learn more about Mix at this year’s Western Heritage Days in Dewey but now I’d like to tell you a little about two other famous silent movie cowboys,  Jack and Al Hoxie. According to The Lives and Films of Jack and Al Hoxie by Edgar M. Wyatt, Jack Hoxie was born in a small cabin between Kingfisher and Guthrie Oklahoma on January 11, 1885 and he died on March 27, 1965. At the age of 80 he was long past his prime as a movie star but was still in constant demand to make appearances. Like Mix, Jack loved people and he was a true cowboy. He had started off doing ranch work and then began competing in rodeos. The rodeos led to work as a movie extra. In 1910 Cecil DeMille directed his first western and Jack was cast as an extra until he was discovered when the leading man was killed. In 1919 Jack starred in his own film called “Lightening Bryce”. His rise to stardom and that of his brother Al became legendary and at the height of their careers only Ken Maynard, Hoot Gibson and Tom Mix were as well known.  After he retired, Jack moved to Keyes, Oklahoma where he is buried. Al died on April 6, 1982 and is buried in a California cemetery next to many other big screen stars. Most of Al’s memorabilia is in the Western Heritage Museum in Oklahoma City. If you want to know more about these stars from another era check out the Western Heritage Days weekend coming to Dewy this September. It’s a trip into history I know you’ll like. Till next week, I’ll see ya down the road….

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Thanks for staying with me as time goes by…….

                      Down The Road with the Original Buffalo Dale

 Welcome back. As today is the first day of spring, I am reflecting on just how fast time goes by, especially when you’re traveling. Just in this past month alone, I have taken you to a professional basketball game in Oklahoma City and introduced you to Kevin Durant. I covered two Oklahoma State ball games in Stillwater that I hope were interesting reading along with interviews with Travis Ford and a previously little known freshman, Marcus Smart. By all accounts Smart will probably be the second or third pick in this year’s NBA draft if he decides to go pro.

I’ve also brought you some stories about murder this month. These stories always seem to generate the most feedback from readers, especially the true ones! Time is a precious thing. A man I truly admire, Waite Phillips, once said that “the only things we keep permanently are the ones we give away!” That quote which is just one of dozens of epigrams that Waite kept in his pocket everyday expresses the fleeting nature of life and it is the starting place for this week’s column.

I was fortunate enough to play a small role in the photo workshop which Jerry Poppenhouse organized last June at the Express UUBar in New Mexico.  Jerry and several professors from the photography program at OSU-IT led the workshop and it was a huge success. After the workshop Jerry organized an exhibit of the photos that the participants had taken and published their work in a popular coffee table book. The workshop was so successful that  a second one is planned for June 13-15.

This is where Waite Phillips’ quote comes in. Already known as a generous supporter of worthy causes around the world, the present owner of the UUBar is clearly following in Waite’s footsteps. This week on behalf of Bob Funk, I was proud to present the first Express UUBar Ranch scholarship to Ricky Cuellar. Ricky was selected by his teachers at Bartlesville High School and he will receive an all expenses paid trip to the ranch to attend the workshop. Ricky will also tour Philmont Museum and get a chance to hang out with the hundreds of scouts who come there every summer from all over the country. He’ll hike the high country and see elk, deer and bear. At night he’ll learn about the important role that the Cimarron area played in the development of the west. Buffalo Bill, Billy the Kid, Wyatt Earp and the killer Clay Allison were all guests at the nearby St. James Hotel. I’m sure after he hears these stories that dreams of their legendary exploits will fill his head when sleep catches up with him. It will be a great trip for a young man and without the help of people like Waite and Bob it would never have happened.

Jerry tells me there’s room for a few more people on this trip so if you’re interested call the UUBar at (575) 376-2035 and ask for Kathy.

Another story that I wrote about a few years ago had to do with the medical procedure known as “colonoscopy.” I personally had one done when I turned 50 and followed up with another at 54 and then that was it. Well now at 61 I’m overdue and I bet many of you are too.

Dr. Gopi Vasudevan told me it’s easy to forget about this procedure because you don’t have it done frequently but he warns that this is still a very important test. I remembered that the stuff you drink before the procedure didn’t taste very good and that you couldn’t eat much except clear liquids for a day or two. I also remembered that the procedure itself was painless and it only took about half an hour. Once home I slept like a baby. So why had I put mine off? Being busy or afraid is no excuse. +No, I’ve faced much more danger in the wilds. Money? No most insurance companies cover colonoscopies and there’s even a special program to help if you’re uninsured and can’t afford it. For some reason it’s just an easy thing to put off but I’m not doing that any longer and you shouldn’t either. Call Dr. Vasudevan or get a referral from your primary care doctor, it might just save your life.

I’ll end this week with another of Waite’s epigrams and till next week I’ll see ya down the road…

“Real philanthropy consists of helping others outside of our own family circle, from whom no thanks is expected.”

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A bad end for smugglers…..

Down The Road with the Original Buffalo Dale

 This week I’d like to start things off a little differently and give you the scoop first. I was in Stillwater for Saturday’s men basketball game when OSU played Kansas State and I got to witness a team in action that I think has a shot at greatness this year. Look for the Pokes to go far in the NCAA tournament.

With that said, welcome back to part two of “a tale of murder.” The disappearance of the two young smugglers from Mexico who were just passing through wasn’t on anyone’s radar screen. The risk of arrest and/or death was just part of the business. Greed was common among the lower ranks of the smuggling trade and it was not unusual for mules to steal loads of pot from their employers.

Back in the late 1970s there were lots of American men with money looking to score some weed along the border. This story is about one of them. Although highly successful with legitimate businesses, he was drawn into the smuggling life by the challenge and excitement of operating outside the law. The two murdered smugglers might have been linked to him but given the size of his enterprise and the vast number of pot smugglers running the Mexican border during this period they could have just as easily been working for someone else.

His dad was a New York City banker who had made millions and raised his son with the best of everything. He attended private schools and a chauffer would pick him up every day and take him home. The boy was a gifted student and his father made sure he was also tutored in areas such as manners and etiquette that would prepare him for the privileged world he was expected to live in.  As the family’s wealth grew trusts were established that ensured financial security for the boy and future heirs as well.

By the time the boy was in his thirties he was successful businessman in his own right and had also received quite a bit of money and other assets held by the trusts. His father had died and his mother was just barely hanging on in an assisted living facility in Manhattan.  Like many other free spirits in the 1960s he ended up in Tucson, Arizona, looking for a different way of life. He fit right in there and after buying a showcase home for himself, he opened a construction company which bought and remodeled high end older homes and then re-sold them. Next, he set-up a travel agency specializing in high end tours for wealthy people. He created the itineraries himself and they always reflected his own wealth and taste. He purchased a steel company and a fleet of trucks to haul product back and forth across the U.S.-Mexico border.  This acquisition was followed by the purchase of several smaller affiliated businesses. His travels often included trips to New York, Denver and Mexico and anywhere in-between that his growing empire seemed to take him. He flew on his own private Beechcraft King Air or his back up plane, a 1972 Cessna 421B.

Eventually his business interests took him to Santa Fe, New Mexico and then to Albuquerque. In Albuquerque he started a string of upscale restaurants and turned an empty warehouse into the hottest nightspot in town. For seven years his clubwas the undisputed king of night clubs in a city known for wild nightlife and for seven years he bought anything that caught his eye. From Tucson to Santa Fe, if he saw a house or a piece of land he liked he bought it. Every home was furnished with expensive antiques and fancy cars were parked in every garage.

He was also developing a strip mall near Albuquerque and had also bought out a Santa Fe film company so most of his time was spent on the move from home to home. It was around this time, in 1984, that the two men were killed in Washington county over a few pounds of pot.  Their deaths wouldn’t have made a blip on the radar screen of this very successful man.

As the years went by his success in business was followed by two kids and a marriage that ended in divorce. Money was never a problem and he was always running in the fast lane until the summer of 2005. Then came a day that changed his life forever as well as the lives of twenty-one of his most trusted employees around the country. The authorities simultaneously arrested accomplices in New York City, Columbus, Ohio, Denver and Tucson including a man on a motorcycle who was carrying over a million dollars in cash and a nineteen year old girl who was intercepted on a commercial flight with close to two million dollars and jewelry in a large carry on suitcase.

It was the culmination of a four year federal drug investigation. When he was brought before a judge for a hearing after his arrest, the agents presented their case.  Millions of dollars were being sent to various storage houses.  His “employees” who ranged from motorcycle gang members to street hippies were estimated to be selling tons of marijuana. The task force had already confiscated 49 million dollars and expected to find more. There would be no bail bond and he would face a long trial.

After three years of haggling in a plea bargain he was sentenced to seventeen years in federal prison and he lost everything except the trust funds his father had set up for him years before. Today he sits in prison hoping for an early parole date. Now in his late sixties, 2023 would be his earliest possible release date. As for the people the police called his “gang”, most were jailed, some were released early when they cooperated with authorities and some like the two young smugglers, were never found.

Till next time, I’ll see ya down the road…..

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Dead men do tell some tales….

Down The Road with the Original Buffalo Dale

 Welcome back.   This week I’m bringing you a tale of murder. Out in the country thirty years of weather can change the earth’s surface dramatically. Grass, weeds, livestock, wildlife and even man play a role in shaping the condition of the ground.  The fate of the two men whose unmarked graves lie peacefully somewhere in this ever changing landscape was unknown until now. This is part of their story.

Born into poverty in Mexico, the two were first recruited as “mules” to carry marijuana across the Mexican border with the United States near Tucson, AZ.  The job did have its risks but always being paid in cash by American drug buyers was quite lucrative. There were usually six or seven other Mexican men in good physical condition working with them.  Each man would carry thirty to forty pounds of compressed marijuana in brick form that was stuffed into gunny sacks. With only a canteen of water, these men had ten hours to cover about eighteen miles in the dark of night, drop off their load to an American in a waiting car and get back over the border by sun up. This was a trip the two young men who were just in their twenties made several times a week. Many times the Mexican men would be accompanied by a couple of the American pot buyers who would also carry a load if need be. The job was harder than most Americans were prepared for and mules often made extra money by sharing their loads and making sure they got delivered.

Over several years different agreements were made and many mules were entrusted with more responsibility, expanding from running pot across the border on foot to delivering it in cars with built in secret compartments. Good drivers were given routes to New York City where pot sold for big money. Other routes included college towns in Oklahoma where quality product was in high demand, making the shorter routes sometimes even more profitable. The less time spent on the highway the better because two young Mexican men speaking little English and carrying a load of contraband were just trouble waiting to happen.

On their last trip alive everything had started out as usual. They had met with their Mexican employer about fifty miles outside of Nogales at a commonly used smugglers’ crossing. There were three or four other cars there, all with secret shipments headed for the states but they didn’t know where the other cars were going and they didn’t ask. They were told which car to take and given a map, an address and expense money. Then they were pointed down the dried up creek bed which crossed a road about a quarter of a mile away. From there a right turn would take them across open ground. This was a border patrol road and the men didn’t want to spend much time on it. At night lights along the road could be seen from miles away but they had no choice- headlights were a necessity in order to stay on this goat path of a road which had deep ravines on either side, This trip was almost routine for the pair who by now had made it many times before. Something else was becoming routine as well. On their first night on the road they would steal a little of each shipment for themselves. They figured that a pound or two out of a couple of hundred wouldn’t be missed and at first it wasn’t. The two would hide their stash somewhere along their three day drive, often under things behind hotel rooms, knowing that they would be back to pick it up in a few days. There was a real demand on the Mexican side of Nogales where tourists wanted to buy small 1 oz. bags of pot. This trade was even more profitable for the two young men than their cross country drives and they thought it was a lot safer.

As frequently happens they got greedy as their earnings grew and after several successful trips to Oklahoma, their pilfering increased from one or two pounds to five or ten pounds.

This last trip became a one way delivery when they found out the hard way they had crossed a pair of men who lived by a prison code. One of the rules was that they didn’t tolerate stealing among themselves and when thieves were caught the consequences were harsh. A witness to the killings called them brutal. The pair was already dead when the girlfriend of one of the killers came home unexpectedly. She found her boyfriend in the midst of cutting the men up on a large piece of plastic and putting them into fifty-five gallon metal drums. Their lives were over and all that’s left is this story.

Next week: the boss. He was born to a wealthy family in New York City. A college educated man, at 6’4” with an athletic build, he had the goods and charm to be successful and he was. He owned several profitable businesses including a film company, a trucking firm as well as restaurants and night clubs. He also bought and sold dozens of homes, paying cash at the drop of a hat. There was also one other line of business that few knew about until recently. He sold pot. He was not part of the Mafia or a Mexican cartel; he just did it for fun. Till then I’ll see ya down the road…

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I was fortunate to have the opportunity to catch a recent Thunder game….

                      Down The Road with the Original Buffalo Dale

 Welcome back.   The date was September 2, 2008 when big time professional basketball in Oklahoma was born.  The Ford Center in Oklahoma City had been completed in 2002 so with a new home constructed to NBA standards already in place; the former Seattle Supersonics became the Oklahoma City Thunder. The following year, after negotiations with Ford over the naming rights broke down, Chesapeake Energy stepped up and the Center was renamed the Chesapeake Energy Arena in a 12 year multi-million dollar deal.

I visited the arena on Sunday to watch the Thunder play the Chicago Bulls.  Before the game started I had time to take a tour and I learned that the arena seats 19,675 for an NBA game and includes 3,380 club seats, 7 party suites and 46 private suites. From top to bottom I didn’t see a seat I wouldn’t be happy with. I also found out that if you’re short of cash there’s still a way to go to a game. Two hours before every home game the Thunder gives away 50 pairs of tickets. You have to line up, write your name on a piece of paper and then wait to see if they draw it. I checked things out and discovered that at most only around 200 people brave the elements and wait. Seems like good odds to me and the pre-game party atmosphere outside where they hold the drawing was also a lot of fun.

Through my research I also found that Flintco was the contractor for the arena and that it took 3 years to build at a cost of 89.2 million dollars. That’s 115 million in today’s money and worth every penny in my estimation. Oklahoma City owns the facility which was built as the anchor of the extremely successful downtown revitalization project known as MAPS.

As for Sunday’s game with the Chicago Bulls, the Bulls couldn’t stop the 6’3” 187 pound Russell Westbrook on this night. You throw in 6’9”, 235 pound, NBA scoring leader Kevin Durant and a big handful of other talented guys; mix them up and the Bulls were toast by the end of the third quarter.

During TV timeouts and half time, the Thunder’s entertainment crew kept the sold out crowd enthused with all kinds of crowd pleasing activities. One of my favorites was the multi barrel T shirt shooting machine gun that sprayed hundreds of T shirts into the crowd, even up to the highest seats. The Thunder mascot, acrobats and their cheerleaders were also on hand to keep things lively. There was also plenty of food and drink available with choices ranging from full service restaurants to a wide variety of food vendors. This is where I discovered a Bartlesville connection to the Thunder.

Sunday’s game was nationally televised and between local TV sportscasters, ESPN crews and a national feed, there was dozens of high tech camera men on the scene. Yes Kevin Durant, Kendrick Perkins, Russell Westbrook and the rest of the Thunder team are NBA superstars but the people working behind the scenes to bring the games to you are also superstars in their own field. I ran into two Bartlesville graduates who were filming for Fox Sports on Sunday. 1981 Col High alum, Monte Seaborn has been operating a hand held video camera professionally since 1995 and he is much in demand with networks like Fox and ESPN. Some of you may remember his dad, Richard Seaborn, who coached wrestling in the 1970s.

I also got the chance to visit with John Neptune who was operating out of Fox’s control truck which all of the video was streaming through. A 1970 grad like me, John had a long career at Phillips Petroleum which took him all over the world. Then he was offered a deal which led him to sports television. The job is called “video operator” and apparently John is one of the best. With free lance contracts for the big networks, John works out a semi sized mobile unit holding literally hundreds of video monitors. From football games to hockey, and of course basketball, John’s job is making sure that all of us watching at home see every play.

Here’s the scoop: You definitely want to catch the Thunder in action and don’t forget to look for Monte and John. Till next week I’ll see ya down the road……

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