I had to reply to this one. First, I haven’t heard from, or
about, Eddie Parisien for 40+ years. He was a fun guy back in high
school and we never had a dull moment! Secondly, I had no idea that
Brenda Hoffman’s pink and white ’55 Ford Victoria was still in existence
let alone right here in the area. When Harvey, Brenda’s dad, found that
car for her, it was in like new condition and with the pink and white
color inside and out it was what we called a ‘girl’s car’. Beautiful
little car for Brenda to drive. Harvey had a knack for finding mint
condition older cars and always kept them in tip top shape. I remember
Dale Hoffman’s cars well too. He had a bright red Model A Ford coupe
with disc wheels and full disc wheel covers. He next owned a black and
yellow ’55 Ford Victoria like the pink and white one Brenda had. It was
also really nice shape. My own first car, A Model A 4 door, is still
sitting in my quonset. I bought it in tough shape from my uncle Cliff
Johnson for $50. and fixed it back up a bit with a home brew paint job
and other parts I found locally. It certainly wasn’t anything even
close to the Model A Dale drove. That one was nice! Thanks Gary!
Dick
Forwarded messagefrom Dick Johnson (’68): Dunseith, ND
Bill Hosmer’s (’48) reply to the Williston Oil Memo below:Dick and all, That is an interesting portrayal of fast advancing development. There is
much to be gained, but not without social, environmental, and legal impacts. It is so dramatic to me after my years in the agricultural setting and small town civility that characterized our state. It a different way of life with unheard of monetary drama for the oil owners as well as the supporting service businesses, and main street stores and shops. It is devastatingly profitable for many. Bill Hosmer
Gary Stokes’ reply to the Williston Oil Memo below:Dick,
This is so interesting. The Williston area clearly can not handle all the people. In time, hopefully, they will build accommodations to support/accommodate all these folks. In doing that, the problem may be being able to sustain and keep all these folks employed in the post drilling years.
The last item, 35, caught my eye. Many folks in this country (Philippines) become Nurses with the intent of getting employment in the USA or many of the other countries around the world. Upon completion of their schooling, they have to pass a national examine in this country to officially become an RN. The average passing rate is less than 50%. The test is given only once a year, so those that fail have to wait a whole year to retake the exam. In time the majority do pass. For those seeking employment in the USA, after they have passed the PI test, they must pass the USA test. Many end up retaking this one too. These tests are pretty hard. The average wage for a registered nurse in our area is about $7.00 per day. Up in Manila the RN wages are a bit higher at about $10.00 per day. Bernadette has a few cousins in NY, NJ, TN, TX and CA that went this route a number of years ago. They have done very well in their nursing careers over the years too.
The going rate for tooth extractions at the local dental offices are $5.00. Several years ago Bernadette had a beautiful 3 unit porcelain Bridge done that cost us $250. Had she gone to the mall, it would have been triple that, but that too would have been a great deal.
Gary
Williston Oil Memo
Suddenly I realized, I must have left them in the car. Frantically, I headed for the parking lot. My wife, Diane, has scolded me many times for leaving the keys in the ignition. My theory is the ignition is the best place not to lose them. Her theory is that the car will be stolen.
As I burst through the doors of the church, I came to a terrifying conclusion. Her theory was right. The parking lot was empty. I immediately called the police. I gave them my location, confessed I had left my keys in the car, and it had been stolen.
Then I made the most difficult call of all. “Honey,” I stammered. I always call her “honey” in times like these. “I left my keys in the car, and it has been stolen.” There was a period of silence. I thought the call had been dropped, but then I heard Diane’s voice. “Ken,” she barked, “I dropped you off!”
Now it was my time to be silent. Embarrassed, I said, “Well, come and get me.”
Diane retorted, “I will, as soon as I convince this policeman I have not stolen your car.”