Oil patch Christmas

Dec. 2, 2002
At this time of year, for many of us, thoughts naturally turn to home and memories of Christmases past. Some may recall a trip with Dad to pick out the family's Christmas tree or the aroma of Mom's pumpkin pie.

At this time of year, for many of us, thoughts naturally turn to home and memories of Christmases past. Some may recall a trip with Dad to pick out the family's Christmas tree or the aroma of Mom's pumpkin pie. But I was born and raised in the East Texas oil field, so my favorite Christmas memories are of the decorated derricks in Kilgore, Tex.

Columbus "Dad" Joiner discovered East Texas field outside Kilgore. When his Daisy Miller Bradford No. 3 came in on Oct. 3, 1930, Kilgore's sleepy farming community turned overnight into a boomtown. More than 1,200 wells were drilled within Kilgore. Part of one downtown block, some 1.2 acres, was blanketed by wells under rows of derricks standing end-to-end and side-by-side in "the world's richest acre," producing more than 2.5 million bbl of oil. Oil from East Texas field eased that portion of the state through the Great Depression of the 1930s and floated the Allies to World War II victory in the 1940s.

Kilgore's Christmas lights

And somewhere along the way, Kilgore began putting Christmas decorations each year on the giant steel derricks that towered over that city. Strings of colored lights ran up the derricks' legs and formed stars in their crowns. Festive signs of "Merry Christmas" and "Happy New Year" stretched between derricks to span Kilgore's streets. And each year folks flocked from all over East Texas to see Kilgore's lights.

At my boyhood home in nearby Gladewater, preparations for the Kilgore Christmas tour would start before Dad finished his day tour, with Mom baking cookies or making popcorn balls. Supper was always a hurried affair, with my brothers and me already excited about the evening trip. Then as darkness fell, we put on our cowboy-print flannel pajamas, Dad piled pillows and blankets in the back seat, and Mom gathered a thermos of coffee, bottles of juice, and holiday snacks.

Even before it came into view, Kil- gore's festive glow was visible beyond the tree-covered hills. The tall steel derricks sparkled with holiday magic. We would join the parade of cars cruising Kilgore's streets, with us kids hanging out the windows for a better look at the brightly lit derricks. Then we'd congregate with other sightseers in the parking lot in front of Merritt Tool Co.

The machine shop was founded in 1928 by A.P. Merritt and enjoyed early success through its manufacture of the "gold fishtail" bit used to drill hundreds of East Texas wells. But to me, Merritt Tool's best product was its special Christmas display. Across the top of the building was erected a large revolving canvas belt painted in snow-covered scenes—carolers outside of homes, families decorating trees within, shoppers loaded with packages, skaters on frozen ponds. And before that revolving screen were life-sized figures of Santa in a loaded sleigh pulled by reindeer that rocked up and down to an endless medley of Christmas tunes through large speakers.

The carloads of families parked out front made Merritt Tool look like Saturday night at a drive-in movie of that period. We'd spot friends or relations in the crowd, and soon two or more families would crowd together in one vehicle. We kids piled in the backseat like puppies, sharing snacks and comparing Christmas wish lists. Moms huddled in the front seat, sipping coffee and exchanging neighborhood news. Dads congregated outside, leaning against fenders as they swapped work experiences and tips on who was hiring. Someone always had a container of eggnog or some other spirit to offset the evening chill. Some hours later, the crowd would break up, and my brothers and I would fall asleep on the short ride back to Gladewater, full of cookies, popcorn, and Christmas anticipations.

In the 1960s, Kilgore tore down all but one of the aging steel derricks that used to dominate its skyline. About that same time, Merritt Tool's Christmas display was destroyed in a fire, although the family-run business still exists in the same location.

Reviving tradition

But in recent years, Kilgore decided to return to its roots. It has reassembled 54 of the old steel derricks and re- sumed lighting them at Christmas. The official lighting ceremony this season was Nov. 23.

It's been a long time since I left East Texas, and I've seen many places in the ensuing years. But the bright lights of Las Vegas, New York, London, and Paris never impressed me much.

After all, I've seen Kilgore at Christmas.