As I Remember, Chapter 34

This entry is part 34 of 39 in the series Ted Bio


      Before Mother passed away, she handed me some papers that were clipped together. “This,” she said, “is a carbon copy of my last will and testament. Hang on to it, just in case something might happen to the other copy. This one I have signed just like the other one.” I took it and I still have it. It is lying right here beside me. Would you like to see a copy of some of the pages? Some that evidently got changed for others.? Any how the only thing I ever got out of her estate was what I sold at that auction sale. And I am sure that none of the other heirs got anything either. Brother Ray was administrator and ended up with everything. I could say a lot more about this but I think this is enough.

      Oh yes, I started another book this summer. The Tin Lizzy is the title. It is the story of a 1910 model T Ford, that was in an old time auto show parade, this summer here at Prescott, Arizona. All the old timers here, gathered around the thing after the parade was over. Including me. We all walked around and kicked it’s tires, spun the crank and patted it gently. It sure brought back a lot of memories. One old boy made the remark. “If only that old baby could talk. What a story she could tell!” This gave me the idea. Of course a car can’t talk, but if this one could, it might go something like this…

      Then I begin the Old Ford telling it’s own story. I am about half way through now. Will finish it when I get through with this.

      You probably wonder why I don’t attempt to get some of these books published. I will tell you about that. Sometimes it takes months before you hear from a publisher. This last year, I decided to send off a couple. Thought I might be in one place long enough to get an answer. Last fall down in Yuma, I mailed one to one of the big publishers in New York. I waited for months and didn’t hear a word. Finally I called them on the phone. They said they had not received the manuscript. I went to the post office and had some tracers run on it. They finally located it and returned it to me. It was lost all winter. When I come up here this spring, I decided to send it to a publisher here on the west coast. I sent this story, Go With the Wild Wind, to Alchemy Books. 681 Market Suite-775. San Francisco.CA. 94105. They were supposed to report in three or four weeks. That has been over four months ago. I have wrote to them several times. Also called them on the phone. They admit that they have the story, but won’t make me an offer or return the manuscript. I think they are trying to steal it, or some of the ideas in the yarn. Maybe sooner or later, they will come up with something.

      I will tell you a little bit about this story which I gave it the title, Go With the Wild Wind, or “The Sanctuary.” First I will tell you what inspired me to write this one. As you know, I have always been some sort of an inventor. Also a mechanic and welder. A few years ago, when gasoline prices began to soar, I got busy. We have been led down a primrose path. I thought. The oil and gas companies have got us so brainwashed that we thing there is no other great source of power. Back before they gained control, we relied greatly on the wind. All the ships that sailed the mighty oceans, were powered by it. And now, a lot of fishing boats are returning to wind power. Back in the early days, most every farm had a big windmill. Then later, along come the wind charger. Turning an electric generator and charging batteries. The development of wind power, had been stopped in it’s infancy. Why had we dropped this great source of power? I asked myself. The answer? There was no way the big companies could get a monopoly on the wind. It was free for the taking. For centuries, Holland had kept the mighty ocean from flooding their land by using windmills. And they still do. Then I come up with a brand new idea. Instead of big blades turning a generator, hook it up to an air compressor. Then, like a row of electric light poles, put up miles of them. Then along side down below, put a steel pipeline several feet in diameter. The bigger the pipe, the more storage. Now nothing is going to waste and there is no smog or fall-out. The wind spins the blades and goes merrily on it’s way. The blades turn the compressor, which in turn pumps air into the pipe below. Now, like a giant reservoir of water that has been dammed off, we now have one huge tank of compressed air. Air motors are very simple and efficient. Also light and trouble free. From this pipeline, we can easily generate all the electric power we need. And there are electric cars and trucks available. Also, I designed a car to run on compressed air. So instead of gas stations everywhere, there would be compressed air for sale at a very low price. Lots of people would have a compressor on their roof top and a tank buried in their back yard. This would not only supply all their electric power, but would also run their car and for practically nothing.

      In this story, a group of millionaires take this inventor and his machines far back into the mountains of Arizona. Here, they build a sanctuary. A place that will survive the great atomic war that their computers say is sure to come. There is a hundred families that move in. And all the power they can use, is generated by the wind. In this story, I give all the details on just how to build everything. Including the Air Car. And if published, it could change the whole world. At least that is my opinion.

      Now to get on to another subject. While I was south of the border, I learned to make things from plaster of paris, or molding plaster. I learned how to make my own patterns. Also the molds and how to use them. Also to take a pattern off anything that was on the market.

      Living on just your social security check, leaves a lot to be desired. So I began making a lot of these things and putting them on the market. Most of them were banks. Gorilla bank, doggie banks, owls and many others. In the past six or seven years, I have made and sold hundreds of them and that extra money sure come in handy.

      And now a few words about my paintings. There are probably more artists here in Prescott Arizona, than anywhere else in the United States, and I am one of them. And I will tell you how I got started. I guess it must have been about seven years ago. I was attending one of the big art shows that they hold here a couple of times each summer. And they are really something. One day at one of these show, I stood and watched an Indian paint a beautiful picture. He looked old, ugly and mean. Long braids and bare footed. He didn’t look like he had brains enough to pound sand into a rat hole. Right there, I decided that if he could do it, so could I.

      In my day, I had painted lots of automobiles. Was an expert with a spray gun. But had never attempted anything like this. There are many artist supply stores here in town. I went to one of them and bought a beginner’s kit, complete with brushes. Also a beginner’s book to get you started. Also several canvas boards. I glanced through the book. I remember one thing it stressed. “Start by painting something easy, like an apple, or an orange. Later, to a vase or a pitcher or bowl.” Well you know me. I threw the damn book away and painted the Grand Canyon. One of the most difficult things in the world. Those ever changing shadows are really something. I was up to the North Rim for about a week. Before I left there, I sold a picture to a tourist for a good chunk of money. I took some snapshots of it, which I still have.

      Kachinas, Hopi Indian spirits, were all the rage at that time. I painted dozens of them on leather. (I guess I was supposed to be different.) And they sold like hotcakes. I painted a golden eagle lighting on the rim of a canyon and sold it for two hundred bucks, also several others. Then I started painting portraits. I began by using poster board and a pencil for an outline. Then wax crayons and enamel paint in pressure cans to finish it off. Later, I switched over to oil and canvas. I painted quite a number of portraits. This last year, the demand for paintings has gone way down. I guess they are buying food with their money. Times are really tough in this area. There is very little building going on. Most all the copper mines have shut down. So to substitute my income, I took a job as a manager of this court. The Lazy G Trailer Court. It also has some furnished apartments. Yesterday, I gave the owner notice. I will be leaving in thirty days. Will probably end up in Yuma, at 2831 W. 5th St. 85364. The summers are beautiful here at Prescott. It is over a mile high. Yesterday it was 114 in Phoenix and eighty five here. Yuma is about like Phoenix. But it can get mighty cold here. And lots of snow. Not a good place to spend the winter in a trailer. Oh yes, a year ago last spring, Jo Martin and I were married in Boise Idaho. A lady that I have known for a good many years. We moved into a big new apartment house at Collister. This marriage was one big mistake. To begin with, she was a nocturnal. Like an owl or a bat, she liked to fly at night. Would never go to bed until toward morning. If there was nothing else to do, she would sit and listen to TV until all the stations went off the air. While me, a regular old country kid, I liked to turn in around ten pm and get up when the sun comes over the mountain. And this woman, when she would finally get up, she would drink coffee by the gallons. That and smoke cigarettes. It was no wonder that gal couldn’t sleep. Otherwise, she was a pretty nice girl. Anyhow after a couple of months, we called it off. I went to McCall for the summer and haven’t seen her since. This last spring, we were granted a divorce.

      Here in Prescott, there is a lot going on in the summer. A dance somewhere, at least five nights a week. I usually take in a couple of them. There are about three widows to every man here and some of them are really hungry for a man. So I have really got to stay on guard, or I might get hooked again.

      Anyhow, I am in good health and have a nice twenty one foot Biltmore trailer to live in. Also a Dodge Monaco to pull it with. I have plenty to eat and lots of good clothes and money in the bank. Let’s make it two banks. One here, the other in Yuma, at the Crescent Center office. I always have a will made out. It is on the dresser here in the trailer. So, just in case.

      Probably years later, I will write more. But I think for right now, I will call it a day. With all my love,


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