By Ed Butts, PE, CPI
One Man’s Story The author looks back on the man who introduced him to the water well industry: his father.
s I write this column, it is Father’s Day 2012. I’ve been fortunate enough to spend the weekend with my family, including my own two children and my two grandchildren, which has resulted in thoughts of my own father who passed away in 1989. Anyone who has read this column knows I was born into the water well industry. Although I’ve had no trouble referring to my life and background in many of my past 130 columns, I’ve made only fleeting references to the single person most responsible for setting me upon my career path. Well, I feel the time has come to unabashedly use this space to share with you some of the life of Edward Oren Butts, or more simply, one man’s story.
A
The Early Years My father was born in Corvallis, Oregon, home of the Oregon State University Beavers, on May 14, 1933. His formative early life and school years were mostly spent in Corvallis and Alsea, Oregon, until he enlisted in the U.S. Navy in 1951-52, serving on a minesweeper during the Korean Conflict. Upon satisfying his military service in 1953-54, he married and became the father of two children, my stepbrothers Stuart and Alex. However, the couple subsequently divorced around 1956. Ed Butts, PE, CPI, is the chief engineer at 4B Engineering & Consulting, Salem, Oregon. He has more than 35 years experience in the water well business, specializing in engineering and business management. He can be reached at epbpe@juno.com.
30/ August 2012 Water Well Journal
The few months of working together culminated in the most important “bonding” experience that we shared. When I was born in 1958, my father, freshly retired from the life of a toolpusher in the oil fields of California— and with a new wife (my mother) and two stepchildren (Denny and Jannice) from her previous marriage—relocated to Albany, Oregon. There he started a small water well drilling firm, Valley Well Drillers, using a single Speedstar model 240 two-line cable tool rig. My kid sister, Debbie, was thereafter born in 1959 and—as with many business ventures during that period—my father’s firm grew like all of us kids throughout the 1960s. He later added Speedstar model 71 and 55 cable tool rigs, a Western Geophysical (later, Mayhew) model 1000 mud rotary drill rig, and later a Caldwell bucket boring machine, along with various other pump hoists and support vehicles. While I grew and developed into a bigger kid, it did not take me too long to recognize well drilling was definitely in my blood and I was destined to be associated with the business most, if not all, of my life. The time between my earliest memories in 1963 and 1968 were filled with unique and interesting projects beyond ordinary water well drilling. Two distinct events I recall were the search for the Neahkahnie treasure on the Oregon coast during the mid-1960s and the bucket machine borings for the
largest free-standing neon sign on the West Coast. The treasure hunting experience occurred well before the state banned any exploration on public beaches and consisted of the use of my father’s Caldwell bucket machine with a 48-inch-diameter bucket. Based on research and old maps, several separate borings, some up to 30 feet deep, were conducted in various sites on the beach. Although the treasure was never found, the excitement of the search itself was enough to be etched into the memory of an 8-year-old kid. The second project involved a series of 60-inch-diameter borings to 20-25 feet in depth that were required to support a large free-standing sign adjacent to Interstate 5, at the time the largest on the West Coast. Although I was only 10 years old in 1968, I was nonetheless given the opportunity to work with my father on the rotary drill rig through the summer months as his quasi-helper. Even though I wasn’t the “official” helper, I was still the one responsible for shoveling drill cuttings from the mud trough—a very tough job indeed! This was well before the threat of an OSHA inspection. The few months of working together truly culminated in the single most important and meaningful “bonding” experience that we shared during the span of our relationship. You see, my father was not the most demonstrative of men. He was a child of the 1930s and 40s when emotion from a boy or man was not often encouraged, so he tended to dole out compliments and recognition in small, but worthy doses. Oh, but when he did, I thought
ENGINEERING/continues on page 32 waterwelljournal.com