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A LIFE IN THE SOUTHERN TIER OF NY

and

NORTHERN TIER OF PENNSYLVANIA

OIL COUNTRY.....

Neal K. Wilson

Born July 26, 1901

Died May 16, 1976

A collection of some of Mr. Wilson's letters and stories, plus stories and memories of some others; telling of oil, timber and development of industry and business in the area.

Background on Neal Wilson: At age 15 both parents had died leaving him to seek guardianship from an Uncle in Buffalo in order to receive support from his parents estate.  His parents, Ulysses C. Wilson & Tillie Wilson owned property in Bolivar,NY.  From that early age, Neal worked in the oil industry and enjoyed the good & suffered the bad.  The flavor of the Oil Industry is reflected in these writings.........

Letter one, dated August 1, 1966:

Dear Neal:

    Last evening I was reading some of Robert Service's poems about the development of the Yukon.  I know that Mr. Herrick has chronicled the development of the oil industry in NY State.  I know you are familiar not only with the paintings of the West made by Mr. Russell, but also with the short written sketches which he did.

    I have always been sorry that someone did not sit down with Charlie Trenkle before he passed away and at least with tape recorder get on record the flavor and the facts of the things that Charlie knew about raccoons and trout holes, Indian trails and arrowheads and all the other many interesting things and lore which he knew.

    For some time now, you have been my candidate to put down on paper the lore and the flavor of the early days of the oil industry in New York State, as you know it from stories from your parents and uncles and as you grew up in it.  I think that someone with a facility of expression should write the story of the driller and the teamster, the story of aching muscles and high success, the story of high hopes and no results, all of which you are acquainted with, both from personal experience and from having lived with those who experienced these things.

    This morning, while I was in the shower (this quite often seems to be my point of inspiration), it came to me how this might be done.  I know you would never undertake a book as such.  I know you have read Mr. Russell's short book about horses and men of the West.  I think that you could write a short sketch about the various phases and aspects of the New York State Oil Industry, writing a composite about the various individuals from occupational standpoint.

    Set forth below are some suggestions:

        (a)    For a Title to the whole work;

The Twelve Hour Tower

The Five Spot

        (b) Some of the various sketches of the occupations could include:

A driller;

The tool dresser;

The teamster;

The lease man;

The pumper;

The foreman;

The land owner;

The royalty owner;

The developer;

Sam McKelvy, a real person.

        (c)  Some of the uses to which the oil money profits were put should be chronicled, showing the public spirited nature of the men who came up in the business and were successful, although these things are already more a matter of record than the items listed in (b) above.

    If you do nothing more right now than just preserve this letter, I think that sometime this fall or this winter you will get an inspiration on just how to write up one of or several of these workmen who took the chances and the risks and suffered the defeats and enjoyed the successes of the New York Oil Industry.

    Once we have a sketch or two written, I think we should send a copy of it to my brother's wife, who is an artist in her own right, together with a photograph or two of the men and the items which we have written about and ask her to give us two or three India Ink sketches to go with the text.  I don't know whether we can con her out of such a thing, but it would be worth a try.

Very truly yours,

Peter R. Sprague

One reply, not for offense, rather for a smile & to set the stage for more to come;

Pete:

    It seems that there was a revival in the small town and the evangelist was exhorting loud and with vim on living a life of love for ones fellow man and to never make any enemies - to always turn the other cheek.

    Down in front listening thru his ear phone an old timer heard the preacher say: "Folks how many of you down there can honestly get up and say that I have no enemies to date in the battle of life?"

    Several started to rise but fell back conscience stricken except the old man who stood up and shouted, "I have no enemies!"

    The preacher pointed to the old timer and said, "Wonderful.  Here is a real man.  How come my dear friend lets hear your method to do so.?"

    The old man said, "I HAVE OUTLIVED ALL OF EM, THE SONS OF BITCHES!!"

                    Neal Wilson

8/2/1966

Dear Pete,

    I received a most interesting letter from your desk and one which I thank you for very much.  To write of the saga of the years I recall from 1905 to the present day of the oil business were not the formative years when the pioneers started nailing things together for the next generation.  Note I said 1905.  You see I was five years old then and my memory just started clicking about then but the legends were many and they improved with time in color, though perhaps the truth was stretched, flavour was added.

    Knowing many of the early day adventurers in oil gave one a cross section invaluable to one who liked hero worship.  One could make a selection from many.  It's very odd that I got my name from a very rabid prohibitionist one Neal Dow from Maine who around 1900 was trying to dry up the country.  Neal's method.  I think he was a senator or a member of Congress.  He did not last too long.

    Over the years I have been forced to include some very hard drinkers among those who left footprints in the oil sands of time.

    How much interest could be drummed up in SAND PUMPINGS by Neal Wilson is questionable.  You see Pete it so happens that you were brought up in the North Country where lumbering brought forth some characters very akin to oil.  Oil drillers could have slept in the same bed and been great friends and oil operators with timber tract buyers.  I enjoy the thought that they were just a little special breed of adventurers who had their ups and downs like the thermometer.  You and I see very much alike in the appraisal of history and its makers.

    Jack London - Service - Russell - Ed White wrote of the early days of mining and California-Alaska days so perhaps we had better let one of the Yukon diggers sleep in that bed and in the middle with the other two gents.

    Helen says, if a shower is what inspires you to thoughts of great magnitude she wishes I would do likewise.  Oil and water never mixed too well in the oil business is my answer.

    I will weigh your letter and might just assemble a few tales and in case I do you will be the first one to see if there are any tell tale oil bubbles in the literary keg.

    Thanks a lot.  We talked a lot about your place up there.

                    N. Wilson

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