Raymond Plank made an impression on this editor at an event where the former chairman and chief executive officer of Apache Corp. never appeared.
In 1985, Oil & Gas Journal editorial leaders sent a then-young staff member to an oil event in Minneapolis, a fine city neither then nor now a bustling center of oil and gas activity. It was, however, home to Apache Oil Corp., which Plank and two associates had founded in 1956.
Plank, who turned the drilling-fund sponsor into an independent producer with international operations, died Nov. 8 at his home in Ucross, Wyo. He was 96.
Advantage of dislocation
By 1985, Apache had earned a reputation for financial innovation by introducing the master limited partnership and, through acquisitions, was becoming an operator in its own right—still based in the oil-deprived Land of 10,000 Lakes. And Plank, by then running the company, had turned dislocation into advantage.
Apache maintained a lodge on beautiful Lake of the Woods at Sioux Falls, Ont., where prospective investors regularly fished with attentive guides, enjoyed shore lunches, imbibed soothing beverages, and pondered drilling prospects with Apache executives.
And every year or so, Apache invited senior oil journalists to the lodge to reassure Apache managers that some reporters, unlike most in Minneapolis, knew the difference between drilling rigs and pumpjacks.
It was to one such “meeting” of the scribes—one of the last, as things turned out—that this OGJ editor was assigned as an unusually junior attendee in 1985.
For the record, meetings did happen—formally, at Apache offices in Minneapolis and less so as the gathering moved north.
In exchange for a couple days of rustic hospitality, the journalists from Texas, Oklahoma, and Denver—as well as a veteran industry lobbyist from Washington, DC—shared insights from oil country with their northern hosts.
One member of the group, a well-regarded analyst with a Denver consultancy, received credit for having persuaded Apache leaders—ultimately Plank—to include media mongrels in lodge visitation. He had accomplished this while working years earlier in Apache public relations and became a regular guest after moving on. The man had a flare for strategy.
Anyway, the affair was pleasant, enlightening, and as unique as Apache—a good idea, executed well. At least for this one-time invitee, it felt like immersion in Apache’s trademark innovation, about the source of which there could be no question.
Plank would demonstrate his financial perspicacity the only time this editor spent more than a few minutes with him.
An OGJ editorial had taken a position on some long-forgotten subject with which the Apache chairman differed, so would the writer mind sharing lunch in his office?
By then, Apache had migrated to Houston, close to the OGJ office, in fact, and such a meeting was welcome indeed.
Although known for occasional irascibility, Plank was quite courteous with his thoughtful objections to the editorial, discussion of which proved to be as pleasant as a springtime afternoon at Sioux Narrows.
The Apache cofounder, in fact, showed more agitation after steering the conversation toward Enron, then in its heyday. Plank disliked the organization’s high-flying ways and could make no sense of its financial reports. The phrase “house of cards” looms in memory.
By then, Enron had shed its oil and gas production and pipelines and therefore faded from OGJ’s interest. Plank’s opinions therefore dominated this part of the conversation as his visitor nodded and smiled.
Within a few months, maybe weeks, Enron spectacularly collapsed.
Recalling the prophecy
At a reception some years later, this editor recalled the prophecy to Plank. The Apache founder didn’t need validation of his judgment, of course, any more than it would have mattered to him that the reminiscence came from someone who once had caught walleye and northern pike, even a lake trout, from his boat in Ontario.
I’m glad I was able to provide it, nonetheless.