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"We can't go inside?" I asked disappointed.
"I don't think that's a good idea, Tim" Kendall reaffirmed.
"We're not in Alaska anymore, cowboy, and we don't want to upset any critters that might be living in there" Andrea explained to me.
"Those fallen roof beams don't look any too stable either" Kendall nodded.
"You're right, ladies" I sighed with disappointment.
The four of us now walked up to the large empty window frames and looked inside.
"My God, what are those, Tim?" my wife asked.
"Heat bulb oil engines, originally designed as ship's engines. They were essentially diesels that could burn crude oil, or bunker sea fuel" I replied.
I now peered upward at a large overhead gantry and two extremely old straight-eight reciprocating engines, each of them the length of a semi truck and three stories tall. The vertical base of each engine was shaped like an upper-case "A", complete with ladders and catwalks along the banks of cylinders. Fallen roof beams and rotting timbers were entangled around each of the giant engines and their huge exhaust stacks led straight up into the air with no protective covering. The engines were undoubtedly full of sand and rain water from decades of West Texas storms.
There also appeared to be two additional crank beds set into the concrete floor, I now noticed. The wooden flooring which had covered these two extra crank beds was rotted away and revealing what looked like unused crankshafts, still covered within protective oil paper.
"See the extra crank beds, ladies? That's in case one of the huge crankshafts became scored or got broken. In that case, they'd use that large overhead gantry and just transfer the whole engine and generator assembly onto the new crankshaft bed" I said pointing to the floor.
Andrea aimed her camera to the spot where I was pointing and began filming.
"How powerful were these engines, Tim?" Kendall now asked me.
"Probably only around four-thousand to forty-five-hundred horsepower, each, but the torque they produced would have been astronomical. - Oh my God" I suddenly gasped, shining my flashlight farther into the building.
"What is it, Tim?" Helen asked.
"Look at those rotting crates over there. It looks like there are several tons of brand new liner kits and other wear parts, stacked against that far wall. I wish we had these engines and new parts back at the ranch, Ricky and I could probably get one of these monsters running, eventually" I said pointing.
"I'll bet you and Ricky could get one of them to run. It makes sense that the Countess would want replacement parts on-hand, for these. They probably ran twenty-four-seven, producing power for the mansion" Andrea speculated.
"This building would have been manned, every second of every day of the year. During normal operation, they most likely would have alternated between the two engines, doing maintenance on one while the other was in service. You're correct though, Andrea, one or the other was undoubtedly always running, the whole time. I would guess that the Countess eventually used city power, later on, and kept these as back-up. She may well have used these two engines to generate power for her pump jacks, after she got shore power for the house" I speculated aloud.
"What brand name are these engines, Tim?" Kendall asked, standing beside me and peering inside.
"I really don't know, to be honest, maybe Burmeister & Wain or possibly Giant. The only other ones like these, left in the whole world, are probably at the bottom of the world's oceans inside World War One, or older, ship wrecks" I replied.
"You said these are diesels?" Andrea asked me.
"More or less, the Countess probably ran these two on a mixture of crude oil and kerosene, since she had an inexhaustible supply. What magnificent pieces of engineering" I sighed, imagining the two engines when they were brand new.
Andrea now took several stills of the two massive engines, with her flash bulb popping as she did so.
"...Kendall, you're absolutely sure we can't go in there, just for a quick peek?" I asked hopefully.
"I'm very uncomfortable, with that, Tim" the girl replied firmly.
I silently nodded my head and held up my right palm in compliance.
"Thanks for being a gentleman and understanding, Tim" Kendall replied, rubbing my back.
"He's always a gentleman" Helen said, matter of factly.
"...Thank you for that, Helen" I answered quietly, feeling color come to my cheeks.
A few minutes later we were travelling in the yellow truck again. We stopped briefly at the "old" power station but there really wasn't much to see there. Time and decay had eroded the adobe walls and the wooden roof beams had given way, many decades before, covering most of the machinery and banks of boilers. From what I could see of the engines, each of them appeared to be triple expansion compound steeple engines with four master cylinders in a row. These massive engines towered close to fifty feet in the air and I estimated their construction to have been around eighteen-ninety, when Prominent House had first been in construction. As with the new power station, these engines had also been designed for use in ocean going ships.
After taking video footage and still photographs, the ladies and I climbed into the yellow crew cab once more and started down the narrow cow trail again.
"There's the stables, which originally housed draft horses and also mounts for the cowboys, back when this was a cattle ranch. The Countess later used these stables for her own breeding stock, that was one of her most cherished obsessions, horses" Kendall said, pointing, as we slowly drove past the dilapidated stone structure.
"Looks like she had room for about forty mounts" Andrea said, peering out her window.
"Did you want to stop here?" Kendall asked, looking back at us.
"Not really, at least I don't" Andrea replied.
Neither Helen nor I answered so Kendall continued driving at a slow pace past the stables.
" - Her horses out lived the Countess, and as I mentioned last week, the last one to live out here on the property was a really old cowboy that took care of her stock. I think he died in nineteen-eighty-one, or so. He lived here on parcel 134, all by himself, for about twenty years. After he died most of the horses were then either turned loose or went to good homes, so the story goes" Kendall said, shrugging.
"You could probably write a whole book, just on that one old cowboy, Helen" I commented.
"I was just thinking that, Tim" Helen affirmed.
"I'll show you the graves of the Countess and her sons now, I know you'll want photos of those" Kendall said, speeding up the truck slightly.
...Before reaching the graves of the Countess and those of her sons, we stopped briefly and photographed some turn of the century pump jacks, or "Nodding Donkeys" as they were sometimes called. There were eleven of these huge "Rocking Beam" pumps, and they were the size of a small house and very old. These wells were now long since dry and abandoned, the last active well head on parcel 134, had gone dry in nineteen-fifty-six, so said the tax records...
I quickly noticed that one of the pumps was missing it's crankshaft, connecting rod assemblies, and fly wheels, obviously for use on another pump identical to this one, somewhere else.
The power units on these pumps were gasoline engines, converted to run on natural gas, which was a natural by product of a well head. The engines powering the pumps were the rugged Hercules JXD industrial engine which was the same powerplant used in the Studebaker US6 WWII truck, which my own grandfather had helped build for the war effort. That Studebaker plant being located in Southbend Indiana.
I quietly stared at the antiquated engines and pump assemblies, in remembrance of my grandfather. I also thought about the men who had worked here and serviced these wells, when this machinery had all been brand new. These engines also had their exhaust stacks leading high up into the air. Decades of sand and water had undoubtedly migrated into these Hercules engines, and rendered them useless...
"How far down do these wells reach, Tim?" my wife suddenly asked.
"Thousands of feet, Andrea" I replied, looking down at the draw stem of the well head.
Andrea shot a photograph of Helen, Kendall, and me standing beside the pump jack, closest to us. I then took a photo of all three of the ladies standing together with the pump. The ladies and I then climbed into the yellow crew cab again and proceeded onward, toward the graves of the Countess and her two sons...
" - Wait, wait, Kendall! What's that, over there?" I suddenly asked after we had briefly gotten underway again.
"What's, what, Tim?" Kendall asked, stopping the truck and making eye contact with me in the rear view mirror.
"What's that building, far to our left? Over there in the brush, in that small gulley." I said pointing.
I was now looking out my passenger's window at yet another dilapidated building, the size of a large ranch house but twice as tall. The building was a hundred yards away from us and shaped like a half moon, with the flat side down.
"...I don't know, I never noticed it before, Tim. Want to go look at it?" Kendall asked, putting the truck in reverse.
"Yes, please, let's go take a look" I replied.
Kendall slowly drove through the brush and high grass, carefully edging closer to the old building. Coming closer to the structure, I immediately noticed that the building had once utilized a large frontal door which had been arranged on a track and trolley system, enabling the door to be slid adjacent to the building's front, for clear open access. The arrangement of the huge door looked like something from a turn of the century warehouse. The large door had since fallen down, obstructing the interior view of the building, and was mostly rotted away now, revealing a dark interior.
The four of us got out of the yellow crew cab and walked to the building's front. Unlike the other buildings, this building had a light weight corrugated roof, which was still intact. A man door stood open and we carefully walked inside.
I suddenly gasped.
"Look at that!" Andrea exclaimed.
"Oh my God, this was an airplane hanger" Kendall breathed.
"What is that, Tim?" Helen asked, shining her flashlight.
"Oh my, it's a Jenny, and its still in one piece..." I said with genuine adoration.
"What's a Jenny?" Andrea asked.
"A Curtis JN 4D, fondly known as a Jenny. They were the first mass produced airplane and built as Military trainers for World War One, see the two seats, single file?" I asked, walking closer and pointing.
"It was used to train pilots, you mean?" Andrea asked as she began filming the biplane.
"Yes, they trained Military pilots with this aircraft. After the war, in the late nineteen-twenties, Jennies were everywhere and very outdated by then, so the Military branches all sold them off in liquidation sales - cheap. This was the airplane that made it possible for many of the famous barnstormers to begin flying. The Jennies were inexpensive and easy to keep flying and they were built with the simplicity of a Model-T Ford. Many of our great aces of World War Two learned to fly in Jennies on their family farms" I said, with moist eyes.
Most of the airplane's fabric was rotted away, exposing the wooden skeleton, but the aircraft was completely intact and a perfect specimen for someone that wanted to recreate a nineteen-eighteen Jenny.
"...I can't believe its not broken in two, this building must have sheltered this aircraft extremely well" I said, looking above me at the roof beams.
"An adobe building with a tin roof, seems to hold up rather well here in Texas, Tim, and we're somewhat sheltered from the wind, here in this gully with all the scrub brush" Kendall said, as she rubbed dust from the airplane's wooden propeller.
"Were these a fast airplane, Tim?" my wife asked as she continued filming.
"No, honey, they were slow. They originally had an OX-5 engine, I think that's what it was called, which only produced about ninety horsepower. The OX-5 was a liquid cooled V-8, see the radiator? - At least, I think this is still the OX-5, this plane may have had a newer and more powerful engine installed at one time, I'm not really sure" I said looking upward at the engine.
"Here's a Penthouse magazine dated nineteen-seventy-eight, maybe the old cowboy that lived here took care of this Jenny too" Helen said, as she stood by an old table covered with odds and ends.
"I wonder who flew this airplane? Do you think Danny's dad flew it?" I asked aloud to no one in particular.
"I'm sure the Countess or Mary Wickersham must have mentioned this airplane, somewhere within their memoirs. I'll let you know when I discover the actual person who flew this airplane, Tim" Helen replied.
"...I wonder if Mary or the Countess ever flew in this airplane?" I asked aloud again.
"I think I could envision either or both of them going up for a ride" Andrea speculated, smiling.
"I think that would be highly probable" Helen nodded.
We spent fifteen minutes in the old hanger and found three additional engines as well as many spare parts, ranging from carburetors to cable control components and radiators. We discovered a large toolbox filled with rusty antique tools and tattered repair manuals. We also found many wood working tools in a smaller room and what appeared to be rolls of heavy twine and various tools for sewing the Jenny's canvas fabric.
"...Kendall, I'm going to see if Earl Billingsly will permit one of the local air museums, here in Texas, to come in and save this airplane" I said as we got into the yellow crew cab again.
"If you didn't, then I would have" Kendall said as she started the truck's engine.
All of us were silent for a few minutes as we slowly drove along the cow trail now.
"You're wondering what it would be like to fly that Jenny, aren't you, Tim?" my wife asked quietly, as she took my hand and squeezed it.
"...Andrea, as I recall, I've read accounts where farm boys had bought one of those Jennies at auction for fifty dollars or less. Then, they literally just climbed into one and begun flying, guys who'd never flown before. They wrecked a few, undoubtably, but most of them eventually did fly. I seem to remember reading that the Jenny had been very heavy on the controls but also extremely forgiving, which made sense, because she was, after all, a trainer. I really don't think I'll ever fly a plane, but the romantic side of me does wonder, - what would it be like to climb into one of those old kites and go barnstorming" I replied as I looked out my passenger's window.
"You're a man that can do anything he's ever set his mind to, maybe you should be the one to restore and fly that bird, Tim" Andrea answered.
"Well, I did marry the most beautiful woman in the world, so maybe you're right" I said as I leaned over and kissed Andrea.
A flashbulb now popped in the face of Andrea and myself. Helen then looked at her camera and inspected the photograph which she'd just taken of Andrea and me kissing.
"Let's see, Helen" Andrea said, leaning over the front seat and peering at Helen's display screen.
"That's an awesome photo of Andrea kissing a really good looking guy" Kendall replied, taking a quick glance at the photograph.
I suddenly felt color come to my cheeks, and my wife noticed this...
...We continued to bounce along the cow trail and a few minutes later found ourselves along the south side of Prominent House. As before, the sensation was similar to that of pulling up along side a massive ocean liner tied up at her berth, the house was enormous, and it's length seemingly endless.
"...OK, I see what's happened now" I said, peering upward.
"What do you mean?" Andrea asked, following my gaze.
"The roof is covered with copper sheeting, see where lightning has struck a hole in it? That's where the water was coming in from, when we saw that waterfall inside the bowling alley, the other day" I said, pointing upward toward at a jagged hole, which was about the size of a bathtub and right above the bowling alley.
Kendall stopped the truck and peered upward, with the rest of us.
"That happened a long time ago, it looks like" Kendall said, as she put the truck in motion again.
"Everything, related to this place, happened a long time ago" Helen snorted.
...Several minutes later we drove up to what I could only describe as a large open air patio, of sorts. The area was at ground level of Prominent House and approximately two hundred feet square. Weeds and scrub brush had taken over the cobblestone of this once pristine area, which I guessed had originally been set aside for outdoor parties.
Within the center of the patio there was a small square plot surrounded by a wrought iron fence, which itself was around thirty feet, by thirty feet square. This was obviously where the Countess and her sons had been laid to rest...
Kendall gently nosed the truck up onto the edge of the massive patio and the four of us got out of the yellow crew cab.
None of us spoke as we slowly walked up to the wrought iron fence. The elaborate iron work above the gated archway was adorned with the silhouettes of angels in flight.
...Amazingly, there was no debris or scrub brush within this small fenced in area, only five marble headstones and a statue of a standing Jesus within the center. Wild flowers were blooming from the recent rains and it appeared that small animals often congregated here.
All of us quietly walked through the gated archway.
As had always the case before, concerning Prominent House, with every question that we found answers for, four or five new questions would then immediately present themselves. This small family burial plot now seemed to be mocking us with several new questions all arising at once.
There was indeed, a headstone for Mary Wickersham, as we had suspected there would be, giving strong indicating that the Countess had considered Mary Wickersham as family. There was also a headstone for David Philip Wickersham, the youngest son of the Countess, - with David using the assumed sur name of Wickersham and not that of King. However, the headstone for the Countess herself simply read "Ovia Epps, May 17th 1890 - April 20th 1968, Beloved wife of Franklin Epps" The marker was adorned with flowers and musical notes but nothing more.
- The sur name of Epps appearing was a sudden curve ball that none of us had been expecting nor understood, we were shocked.
My wife now expressed what we were all wondering.
"...Franklin Epps? Who was Franklin Epps? Who was he and how in the world does he fit into all of this? Isn't Epps the name of the ol' guy that sold you the bicycle, Tim? Jimmy Epps, and his daughter Cinnamon isn't it? Their name is Epps, isn't it?" Andrea asked, holding her forehead in exasperation and sudden confusion.
"...(sigh)... Yup, their name is Epps, this whole thing just keeps getting stranger and stranger by the hour, doesn't it?" I asked, shaking my head in disbelief.
"Well then, they must be kin, right? I mean, Epps, is a very uncommon name and so..." Andrea's sentence trailed off as she stood in utter confusion.
"I wish I knew, honey" I said, shaking my head again.
I quickly eyed Helen, the girl seemed to be as confused as the rest of us.
...Glancing again at the marker for David Philip Wickersham, we noticed that it was adorned with an etched likeness of the young man. Only two days prior we'd seen his photograph, which was presently hanging on the bedroom wall of the Countess. The headstone presently before us showed him with the same aviator goggles and beaming smile. A Jenny airplane, in flight, adorned the other side of the marker. The headstone was inscribed with "David Philip Wickersham, March 3rd 1919 - January 14th 1949." Below David's name was inscribed "An angel on earth and now heaven as well."
