Fickle Miss

Fickle Miss 11353

 

Fickle Miss ~~ Was a beautiful mare by Mr. Aledo Bar. She was owned by Joe Kirk Fulton of Lubbock, TX and won shows coast to coast. Wayne Pooley put the miles on her and Joe Kirk paid the bills. She was 2 years old here and standing in the same pen as the Aledo Bar photos.

Joe Kirk had ordered a painting of Aledo Bar, her grand sire. While at Joe Kirks horse place south of Lubbock I also took some cutting photos, and shots of other horses.

The night before I took this photo I had traveled to Lubbock getting there about midnight. My oldest son Kirk (about 6 years old) was with me. We watched for a motel on the north side of town and then in the center of town, and kept missing turn-offs and for some reason were at the south side when we found a Holiday Inn. It was blowing and the wind was making a lot of racket. At the front desk they said a terrible storm was forecast. I was really tired and didn't worry about it. Kirk was scared at the noise of the wind. I told him to just pray that God would keep us safe and that was the best we could do. Kirk prayed, and we both went to sleep.

When we woke up in the morning it was really quiet. No wake up call -- nothing. A tornado had hit the north center of Lubbock coming in from the south west and another had hit the same north central area that came in from the south east. We were in the middle of the V that was not trashed. Obviously no breakfast, no electric. As we drove away electric poles, wires, trash was everywhere. Joe Kirk's place was further south and not in a bad hit area. The sun came out. Lubbock was trashed, but we took photos anyway.

Joe Kirk's dad R. H. Fulton was a crusty old Texas pipe line contractor who had made a ton of money. As I was trying to sell Joe Kirk on a commission, Joe Kirk was trying to sell his Dad on the value of this purchase of an Aledo Bar painting for himself. R. H. being no help at all, told Joe Kirk, "Oil paintings are a waste of money unless the owner of the painting has the good fortune for the artist to quickly die."

As we drove back to Colorado the next day dozers had cleared the main roads and the Ramada and several other motels on the north side of Lubbock were knee to hip high in debris. I don't remember the date, but everyone in Lubbock remembers.

 

 

 

Author: Darol Dickinson