ENGINEERING/from page 30 my world knew no bounds, that I was destined to take over the business someday, become the best well driller around, and the culmination of my work would make him so proud of me. Although the number of wells “we” drilled during that summer cannot total more than seven or eight, the soon normal routine of getting up at dawn, going to breakfast at the Oasis Café, and driving out to a drill site to start our workday together is forever burned into my memory.
A New Business In late 1969, my father’s well drilling company collapsed under the burden of unpaid taxes and bills, an acrimonious and expensive divorce from my mother, a serious automobile accident, and more debt than the business could handle with the work coming in—a truly monster load of misfortune. I’ll never forget the feeling of despair and anguish we both shared as my father’s entire fleet of drilling rigs and support vehicles were auctioned off one by one and then
32/ August 2012 Water Well Journal
driven out of our parking lot while we sat by and watched helplessly and wondered what would happen next. Although this experience was hard enough for an 11-year-old kid, it was devastating for my father. He quickly sank into a seemingly endless quagmire of depression. He knew he was ultimately responsible for the demise of the business and never tried to disown it. The memories I retain of him between 1969 and 1974 are nothing but increased levels of smoking and drinking, with the probable outcome to be a life destined to be shortened from the events he endured and the compensation methods he used. But who was I to judge? During this time my interests mostly switched to school, girls, and sports. Even though I was just a kid, I honestly thought my days in the water well industry were over. In 1974, my father received an offer from an old friend (and actually a former competitor) in the business to start a pump installation and repair firm. This was a new beginning for him. He was given an opportunity to redeem himself and his image as a businessman. Along
Circle card no. 2
with a new partner, Don Eddie, my father started Ace Pumps in mid-1974, specializing in domestic pump sales and service. In addition, his talents as a known “wheeler-dealer” were used to the maximum as he started a second-hand store adjacent to the shop of the pump firm. Appropriately named “Fairly Easy Ed’s”—it soon became a popular local outlet for used household goods of all kinds. I admit I had come to miss the well drilling part, but quickly I was able to turn to the “pump department.” Unfortunately, the past days of the accumulated poisons my father ingested had started to take their toll. In 1975, at the young age of 42, he suffered the first of his many-to-be heart attacks. This basically destroyed his comeback into the water well business and he was forced to retire soon thereafter. The following years were filled with uncertainty and more health concerns. He underwent several bypass and other surgeries needed to repair clogged arteries. My father spent the next 14 years with various stays in hospitals, fishing,
waterwelljournal.com