In 1962 I was in Madrid, Spain and in normal tourist fashion visited the famous El Rostro (a Spanish flea market run predominantly by Gypsys for hundreds of years.) One stall contained LP phonograph records so I started thumbing through the stacks hoping to find a good Flamenco or Segovia album .... and darned if I didn't find a US album featuring George Hamilton IV and titled "West Texas Highways." What really got my attention was the cover that showed a west Texas highway scene and a TXDot highway sign that said State Hiway 70 and had arrows pointing up to Sweetwater 12 miles and to the left to Longworth 3 miles. That sign is located two miles from where I grew up and believe it or not across the highway from Doug Browning's old home place. I let out a yell when I saw that album and the Gypsys knew immediately they had underpriced it ... so we haggled and settled for about 50 cents for it. I figure that is about the only copy of that album ever sold (it was baaaad.)

For those of you interested in the history of West Texas I recommend you visit the website mapsoftexas.com for foundation materials.

One map available within a set is Pocket Map of the State of Texas (1879.) This map is approx 24 inches square and designed to be folded and placed in the pocket of brave settlers venturing onto the frontier of then virtually uninhabited west Texas. The line of the frontier then was approximately along present I-35 from San Antonio to Oklahoma. The few settlements in existance then are noted, as are forts. It fairly accurate in showing prominent land features, locations of trails, locations of waterholes, rivers and streams ... and the proposed route of the Texas and Pacific Railroad between Marshall and El Paso. A must-have if you are curious about how greatgrandpappy navigated to his roosting spot.

Another great map available is the Railroad and County Map of Texas (1885.) This map is interesting because most of the west Texas counties were not yet organized (it required 150 inhabitants to qualify) but it shows the location of the T&P railroad constructed to El Paso. An interesting note is that the railroad planners were required to name a crossing every 5-10 miles along the route. This meant some poor soul had to get a list of every hero, every historical figure, every relative of a railroad bigwig, etc., to come up with enough names to put on crossings. Those crossing names are on the map and still used by railroads today for identification of sidings, crossings etc.,(you can see them when the tracks are near the highway.) Those crossings later became locations for shipping pens, trading posts, settlements and later towns. Many towns when organized kept those original crossing names. (And you wondered how some of those town names came to be.)(T&P was paid 20 sections of west Texas land per mile of track to build the railroad and survey all west Texas counties ... that explains the reference to "T&P Survey" in the legal description of your west Texas homestead."

[This message has been edited by fossil_ag (edited 3/23/2006 12:02a).]

FisherCoAg ... you state you are from Rotan and that brings to mind a strange WT connection that concerns the football history of the Rotan Yellowhammers. I have a confession to make. It involves a game played in Roby in about 1946. Your record books state that Rotan won that game 72-0. For the first time in almost 60 years you are going to hear the truth (or dubious nature) of that score ... (you are free to pass this tale on to folks who witnessed that game if any are still alive.)

This game was an annual event in Fisher County, an intense rivalry typical of two country town eight miles apart. Bragging rights for at least a year were at stake and the entire county seemed to have an interest in the outcome. The Roby field was typical of west Texas, a little buffalo grass and a lot of grass burrs and gravel. A few bleachers were on the north sideline but most folks mostly stood along the side lines and moved up and down the field with the play. The crowd moved to the end zone or as near to it as possible when someone got inside the 20. The crowds were always boisterous and the referee had a lot of help with his game calling, spotting the ball and signalling scores.

Now the day of the big game ... I was about 12 or 13 at the time. I got to the field a few minutes before the game and heard my cousin (same age) call to me from the scoreboard. This was a structure located at the corner of the west end zone and even with the visitor's sideline ... three telephone poles set in the ground with a catwalk for the "scorekeepers" about 7 feet off the ground and a big board labeled Home and Visitors where metal numbers hooked over a couple of nails to show the score. My cousin was a town boy and even at 12 or 13 was able to hustle any action available at the time ... if I happened by he would get me involved somehow. Any way, that is how I ended up on the catwalk with my cousin as official scorekeepers ... another kid named Joe (8 or 9) walked by so we invited him up as our assistant.

So the game began. We had divided up responsibilities before the game ... my cousin would watch the game and tell us of scoring, Joe would pick the numbers out of the stack we called for and I would hook the numbers on the nails. (We did not think to sort the numbers beforehand ... just a big pile to dig through.)

Anyway, Rotan scored early and after a bit of searching we found a six .. or was it a nine .. Joe, I need a six ... oops they got the extra point ... forget the six, give me a seven. Rotan scored again ... you sure they scored Charlie? ... yeah I think so ... the crowd acted like he scored, I couldn't tell about the extra point ... well just give it to 'em, they probably made it. In the first quarter Rotan got about a 30 point lead and the technical staff on the scorekeeper's catwalk were already in meltdown. Even when the play was virtually under us on the west endzone we had trouble with scores because of about 200 men between us and the goal line ... and after each play seemed like everyone raised their arms signalling a touchdown only to have the ref call the play back for a penalty. (Did they score again? ... No they didn't score earlier, it was called back, then they scored. ... but I already posted that first touchdown ... well, take it down and put it up again.) So in addition to much adding we also had to do a lot of subtracting which really stretched the limits of our math skills. So that is how it went for the scorekeepers.

After the game with our score showing 72-0, we scorekeepers bailed off the catwalk and disappeared into the crowd. Half the crowd was deleriously happy and the other half was hostile ... and we were not willing to bet our last nickel on the accuracy of our answer to that two hour math test.

The next day I ran to get our copy of the Abilene Reporter News to see what score they reported. 72-0, same as ours. I was relieved but still felt a twinge of guilt because I suspected the local stringer had just copied the numbers on the scoreboard and called it in.

So that score in the history books is a miracle if it was accidently correct ... but more likely +/- 10 points if I had to report truthfully to St Peter. So now you know the rest of the story.

Edit: Reason for My Discomfort Over the Years for that 72-0 Score: Those were the days of the one-point extra point. Extra points then were normally scored by your biggest back on his best play which was usually following your biggest lineman. Now do the numbers: Rotan had to have scored 11 times (using our count) because 10 times or 12 are not rational when you consider extra points. Now, 11 touchdowns would yield 66 points but it is not reasonable that a team that scores 11 touchdowns would only push across six extra points. So if Rotan wants to challenge that final score after 60 years that is fine with me ... but I doubt anyone else's memory is any better than mine ... It is good enough, however, for another ruckus between Roby and Rotan.

[This message has been edited by fossil_ag (edited 3/25/2006 6:09p).]

A West Texas Boy (Rotan and Roby) and The Zero Hour Bomb Company. Now that is a title to get your attention.

After WWII veterans were coming home. In 1946 fellows we had not seen for 4 or 5 years were appearing in their home towns looking for a place to fit in and restart their lives. Jobs were scarce so finding or making a niche required a great deal of resourcefulness, otherwise they just had to move along to find work. One such fellow was R. D. Hull, a Rotan boy, who took stock of his talents and decided the only business he might succeed at was watch repair. I first met him at Roby in a cubby hole of a shop in 1946.

Now let me tell you about the prevalence of watches in Roby and Rotan. Few people had them and if they had one they rarely wore it because of the eternal sand blowing. Also, watches in that day were not automatic wind so you had to manually wind them every eight hours or so; forget that and you had a watch but not a timepiece. Now if you tried to force a few more minutes of life into it you broke the main spring. And if you handled it roughly you risked breaking the hair spring. That spring, the thickness of a hair, operated a sprocket that gave the watch its tick. So for the most part folks did not bother with watches and just relied on clocks located in the home or business. A watch repair man was a lonely occupation.

But R.D. Hull was resourceful and spent his idle time working on various inventions. One of his interests was a baitcasting reel that would not backlash. One attempt called the "Lashmaster" was unsuccessful and ended up costing his investors about $50,000. But R.D., facing the dilemma of forging ahead or going back to the farm, went to work on a revised version of his reel. The prototype of the new idea was a Folgers coffee can with a hole in both ends. But investors, aware of the previous project, were not to be found. It was desparate times for R.D. and he expanded his search far and wide for some backers.

In 1948, his travels led him to Tulsa, Oklahoma and to a business named the Zero Hour Bomb Company. That company had been in business for about 13 years and the patent for its sole product, a time bomb for fraccing oil wells had run out. That small company needed a product to manufacture ... and took a chance on the gizmo demonstrated to them by the fellow from Rotan, Texas.

And that gizmo, my friends was the Zebco Fishing Reel. It revolutionized the art of fishing ... so simple to use even small kids could use it with no fear of backlash. And the company got its name from the Zero Hour Bomb Company.

[This message has been edited by fossil_ag (edited 3/29/2006 10:40a).]

[This message has been edited by fossil_ag (edited 3/29/2006 10:54a).]