Permian Basin Petroleum Museum
In 1975, oil was selling for about $7.75 a barrel. Believe or not, gasoline was about 44 cent a gallon. Of course, we did not have enough money then to fill up the tank, but in today’s view, it was cheap!
Fall rolls around and President Gerald Ford has decided he needs to dedicate the brand new Permian Basin Petroleum Museum in Midland. I was assigned to cover this momentous event. Back then, if it was possible, journalist like to get the lay of the land before any event occurs. It helps to know what things to avoid, such as ankle twisters when you were not watching where you are going. We (a gaggle of reporters) arrived at the Midland airport well in advance of President Ford. We were hustled into a van that would join the motorcade. Some of us would be dropped off at a hotel where we would gather in a ball room to watch and listen to the ceremony while pool reporters (previously chosen) would accompany Ford on a tour of the museum. Honestly, not very many of us wanted to be in that pool. Although the weather cleared up, it had been raining cats and dogs and the humidity was high. So, we put our stories together and filed them in the comfort of that nice big air conditioned ball room with coffee and donuts available.
While waiting for the motorcade to be put together, our van parked on a side street leading away from the terminal. At that time, there was a wide grassy median in the center of the main thoroughfare. An enterprising television reporter from Midland set a camera up in that median and was taking trial runs on his story. He had his girlfriend drive by several times to make sure his timing was good, and that the camera angle worked. He intended to film his story about President Ford arriving in Midland as the motorcade past right by him. Everything was set…he is going to have a great story. Even some of the old pro folks in the van thought the young reporter had a bright future.
The presidential motorcade made its way on the thoroughfare, and we were to be the last vehicle in the line. We watched as the young reporter began his story as the motorcade started passing by. Just as the presidential limousine approached the reporter, the vehicle ran through a huge puddle of water. The water sprayed up three or four feet in the air, and you guessed it, our cub reporter and his expensive camera got drenched! Since we were the last vehicle in the motorcade, our driver stopped and asked if we could be of any assistance. The young man, to his credit, was breaking down his equipment and said no that he would just follow us to the hotel.
We arrived at the hotel ball room well in advance of the wet reporter. Everyone set up, plugged recording equipment in quickly and watched the television monitor as President Ford arrived at the new petroleum museum. Everyone seemed focused on the job at hand until our cub reporter came in to the room. The old pros that watched that young man spend all that time for a stand up report only to get soaked by Ford’s limo stood and gave a resounding ovation for him.
He told me he forgot all about getting drenched when he walked into that room and saw everyone standing and clapping for him. We made sure he had all the audio and visuals he needed. Some of the union folks set up a nice area and ran video for his stand up report (his camera was ruined).
Many of those that helped that young man were White House correspondents that you saw on television on a daily basis. It was a heart warming thing to see. I do not know what happened to that reporter. I never got his name. I will always remember his extra ordinary effort that paid off for him.
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