In 1949, a little over a year after arriving in this world in the Heart of Dixie. Mobile, Alabama. Big Howard and Emaleta, with their son, moved to Fort Worth. In search not of abundant economic prosperity but simply economic stability. The days of discovery while living in a second floor apartment in the only three story structure in the historic Fairmont District were halcyon. Fairmont was not then regarded as a historic district, merely a working class neighborhood. But I am certain that the shrubbery surrounding Lorenzo De Zavala School contained the highest population of lighten’ bugs than any other place on the planet. Our gang of kids, with skinned knees and scratched knuckles, put forth great effort to reduce the burden on the greenery by housing as many of the glowing critters in mayonnaise jars as we were able. Some days I would pay cash money to return to that time. The time before I learned what cash flow was. But then to pay cash money, cash flow and I would have to be companions. One of the many conundrums contained within the human experience. Daddy worked for Mummert Electric on the south side of downtown.

After three years, and the arrival of news that the oil and gas industry was booming in Farmington, New Mexico the search for greater economic satisfaction took hold we three piled into a faded green Hudson Hornet and journeyed to Navajo Land. We were not alone. The Four Corners Area became the depository for a vast population of rebel refuse. Texas, Oklahoma, Arkansas, Louisiana, as well as the other Gulf Coast states were strongly represented. It would remain so until the late ‘60’s. Farmington provided the substantial elements required for a substantially good upbringing. At sixteen, off to New Mexico Military Institute and what I hoped to be a honorable military career. Not to be. After three years the United States Army gave me my first serious bout with rejection. My uncorrected vision was too poor. What had always been a curse in my athletic pursuits may in fact have saved my life. Enough of this military business. Let’s Party!!! I transferred to Regis University in Denver. A Jesuit school. At 19, three seminal events occurred which forever changed my life. Firstly, I learned mother was a closet Catholic. I thought that John Wesley sat at the right hand of God. Secondly, I met my first Yankee. They had the oddest notions. And thirdly, Daddy died. I learned what the absence of cash flow was and that Daddy’s business had been failing for some time. We were flat broke. Fortunately, work ethic was strong in our family. I had had real job since the age of 13 and four months of work in the oil field would finance one year of college—with a little help from the bank and some small scholarships.

Not all was bleak. At age 20 I encountered the most ethereal creature that I was convinced God ever placed on this earth. 17 years earlier her mama had named her Brenda Sue. I was a goner. 3 years later we recorded a document in Maricopa County, Arizona which forever noticed to all --- that I was still a goner. What set about building a life together. And some businesses. I didn’t know what I wanted to be but I knew I didn’t want to be broke. I had experience at being broke. It was not appealing With a liberal arts degree from Regis I wasn’t trained but I was educated.

After a brief stint at a major bank in Denver, which was akin to what Tennessee Williams describes as his experience as a clerk in a shoe warehouse, we moved to the Phoenix area and started working toward establishing our own enterprise. Besides, banking was extremely dangerous. I was the repo man. I want you to know that I never repoed a car in a good neighborhood. It was educational though. I learned to keep the car between me and the house. I figured that’s where the gunfire would come from.

In the ‘70’s Phoenix was tough. Brenda Sue worked essentially two jobs. One as a librarian in an architectural firm and as my partner in Somerfield Corporation after 5:00 p.m. and on the weekends. We never had a honeymoon. Couldn’t afford it and we had to get back to work. We were married 7 years before we felt like we could take a vacation. We left town for 8 days. By the time the late ‘70’s had arrived Brenda Sue had left the security of the architectural firm and become my full time business partner. That decade brought us a couple of real estate depressions that our real estate brokerage, real estate development, and general contracting business survived but 1980 was downright terrifying. That April Brenda Sue had about $15,000 in commissions receivable and I had nothing on the horizon. Fearful that I would miss a sale I was at the office 7 days a week. I was contemplating taking the civil service exam. On an April Saturday afternoon as I was leaning over my desk to rest my head and struggle to manage my anxiety I heard the door open and a rancher walked in. He needed a house. We were builders. I didn’t know it then, but that was the genesis for a level of commerce that I couldn’t have imagined was possible. As a result of or development activities we found ourselves being the managers and operators of a regulated water utility that served the subdivisions we were building. A truth of life is that people will only dig up and put 300 families out of water on Sunday afternoons when all of the supply houses are closed and your talent is at the lake fishing. Eventually, we needed to do some traveling. Being very nervous about the inside of commercial airliners we bought an airplane and I learned to fly. After 11 years we decided to retire. Brenda Sue went to graduate school and I took the next 3 and quarter years satisfying all of our obligations. In March of ’93 all was taken care of and I turned off the lights, locked the door and never looked back. I was 45 years old. Worst mistake I have made in my life. But we weren’t broke. I taught at a local community college and eventually managed one of their satellite campuses.

The reasons we went to Arizona no longer existed. Hey, Darlin’ let’s go to Texas. We settled in Weatherford. Volunteered for everything. I was Chairman of the Board for the Weatherford Chamber of Commerce for a couple of years. I had the extreme honor of being the organizing president of the United Way of Parker County. Our presence was noticed at every community event. Being an amateur historian with a 400 year Southern Heritage I became a re-enactor doing a Confederate Cavalry impression which lead me to being the founding commander of the Governor Samuel W.T. Lanham Camp #586, Sons of Confederate Veterans in Weatherford. An organization founded in 1896 to preserve the history of our ancestors. The SCV has nearly 40,000 members worldwide. Some of the largest organizations are in Western Europe and Brazil. During my tenure, and beyond, at the Chamber of Commerce the president and I did a radio talk show for 3 ½ years called Chamber Connection Live. Also, the executive director the United Way of Parker County and I did a radio talk show called Celebration.

Prior to this I had never been in a radio broadcast studio before. So what. All you have to do is learn how to push some buttons. I already knew how to talk. That lead to an opportunity to be a part of the morning show at a medium market station. That lasted about a year. The station’s owner was able to increase the broadcast power substantially which created enormous value in the signal. A media holding company bought the station and I was taken off the air and in time become a regional sales manager. I gave the station notice in October of 2004 that December 31 would be my last day. Current projects include contract website development and design, internet marketing services, as well as, historical research and archival services. I regard my community service a duty of having a pulse but I learned sometime after my 45 birthday that commerce is intrinsic to my life. I cannot live without it I will never retire again. My passion is horses. I have given a job to an ex-racing Thoroughbred. With his mane waving wildly in the wind and tail horizontal to the ground we rapidly traverse great expanses of real estate together. He and I both are addicted to speed. As of yet, I haven’t been able to turn that into a commercially viable venture. And just to add one more non-revenue producing equine activity I have hired a jumping coach. Heck, you can fly without an airplane.