Drumright Derricks and the Whiskey Syndicate

When I think of the great oil boom in the Cushing-Drumright field, I am likely to think first of the seven sons of my centenarian great grandmother Mary Frances Wright Earp (1862-1961), whose boys all grew up in Stroud, a mere twenty miles from the whiskey and oil that ran through the gutters of Drumright and circulated around the hellhole known as the Hump. Such a place would have attracted young men from Stroud the way that shit attracts flies. If so, the stench of the experience was too high to be absorbed by the sanitization that family history almost always provides. That being the case, I must back away from myself to the editorial "we," a word that includes us all. 



THE REST OF THIS ESSAY HAS BEEN REMOVED PENDING PUBLICATION IN BOOK FORM. IT WILL 

APPEAR IN BOOK FORM ON AMAZON WITHIN THE NEXT FEW MONTHS. 

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