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Monday, October 1, 2012

Grasshoppers and a Pair of Striped Pants




In 1874, massive swarms of grasshoppers rode through the Great Plains on the Chinooks. Clouds of insects nearly a mile high, 100 miles wide and 300 miles long created mind numbing problems.

The constant drumming of their wings must have been the stuff insanity springs from, however, the devastation to crops and livestock were horrific and life changing. The ‘hoppers chewed crops and grass down to the bare ground. Trains mashed them on the rails until their greasy remains effectively stopped the engines’ ability to pull the train forward.The grasshoppers blanketed hog lots where pigs enjoyed veritable feasts, gorging themselves on insects to the point, when butchered later, their meat carried a pungent undertone of grasshopper.

Particularly hard hit by the infestation was the state of Nebraska where a quiet farmer and local magistrate named Lew Phillips was trying to raise a family in Greeley County. Surveying the destruction, Mr. Phillips commented “they have eaten everything and are now starting on the wagon spokes.” With that, he decided to relocate to southwestern Iowa with his wife, two daughters and infant son.

That baby boy was destined to become a household name in the petroleum industry. But as Frank Phillips grew, the only thing he knew for sure was he wanted to always wear striped pants to work. This determination was born when, as a young boy, he spotted a Creston barber wearing the flashy striped pants popular in that day. The dapper appearance of that barber spurred Frank to talk his way into an apprenticeship in a Creston barber shop where he eventually became one of the city’s most popular barbers.

An astute businessman, even at a young age, Frank soon owned his own shop where he manufactured and sold his hair tonic “Mountain Sage.” Touted as a cure for baldness, it was well received although basically useless for its’ intended purpose. So, it would seem the man who was to later become so instrumental in the development of the oil and gas industry got his start as a mere “snake oil” salesman.

He soon owned several barber shops and had caught the eye of the local banker’s daughter. After sweeping the daughter off her feet and down the aisle, Frank spent several years selling bonds for his new father in law. It was during one of these sales trips he encountered an old friend who filled his head with intoxicating stories of oil exploration in the Oklahoma Indian Territory.

Excited about the prospect, Frank, his younger brother L.E. and Frank’s father in law John Gibson began selling shares of stock in their new business, Anchor Oil and Gas Company. They opened an office, secured a driller and went “wildcatting” in Oklahoma. Their first venture, the Holland No. 1 was a strike! They were euphoric but the joy was short lived when the Holland proved to be merely a “pocket” which quickly ceased producing.

Then came 2 dry holes and discouragement set in. It seemed the oil and gas industry was only for the big and mighty like Standard. The Phillips brothers were going broke and potential investors were avoiding them like the plague. With their last little bit of capital they secured an 80 acre allotment from an 8 year old Delaware Indian girl named Anna Anderson. Anna’s allotment was nestled in the juncture of the Big and Little Caney rivers about 3 ½ miles north of Bartlesville, OK.

On September 6, 1905, the Anna Anderson No. 1 made its’ gushing arrival and by nightfall the area around the drill site was black and greasy with black gold. The strike was so rich in production it reportedly pumped out 250 barrels a day. The Phillips brothers were on their way. Lady Luck had smiled on them and the wheel of fortune had turned. They went on to punch 80 consecutive producing wells and suddenly enthusiastic investors were seeking them out.

They went on to become prosperous bankers as well as visionary oilmen. They also never forgot their humble beginnings. “Uncle Frank” was determined to always give back to the communities he was connected with in business. Happily, the “snake oil” rubbed off; this was not to be Frank Phillips’ legacy. And, it is reported he did, indeed, often wear striped pants to work.
Information for this article was pulled from the publication
Phillips—The First 66 Years (a public affairs publication of the
Phillips Petroleum Company)

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