This is the oilfield that I spent my entire life in, that I love, admire, and will be sorry to leave. The oilfield of today is NOTHING like this. For that reason I will not be sorry to leave it behind at all.
This is Mr. F, with his goat guard-dog, Big Boy. Mr. F is a multi decorated Vietnam veteran who cannot walk anymore for all the wounds in his knees and legs. He has owned this well for 65 years, as long at its been in existence. It never made him rich, but it helped.
When there is infrequent activity on this well, he likes to come watch. The tires in his scooter are solid, so he can drive over mesquite thorns and not worry. He's interested, he cares; it's not just about money.
I've known Mr. F my entire life. Up the hill from his house, and this well, is the community Baptist Church and when I was five years old I helped him and the community scrape and paint their church. Black, white, red, blue, young, old, we all respect and help each other.
When he comes riding up to the well, my employees embrace his attendance. We treat him with admiration for his service to our country. He is not beneath asking for things, as all landowners do, like to clean the cattle guard out, or put some more rock down on his road. We always do what we can, when we can. Just...because.
What's the "forgotten" part of America's oil industry I refer to? Respect for one another. Telling the truth, always. Standing by your word. Google, for instance, the billions of dollars, and the shear number of public tight oil and tight gas companies involved in lawsuits filed against them by royalty owners over what constitutes marketing costs. Its stunning.
It's little wonder America loathes the oil industry.
Come visit ours and we'll show you around, go eat a big 'ol juicy cheeseburger for lunch. If you stay till evening, we'll drink a cold one, watch the kids ride their tricycles; swap good stories. You will meet good people, and like the real American oilfield.
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