Bob's Oil Well

Duane's take

Here's my telling of what the official marker has to say about Bob's Oil Well, out there in Motley County. Now, some men come to a place and fit right in. And some men come to a place and decide that place just isn't loud enough yet.

Luther Bedford Robertson, Bob to everyone who mattered, was very much the second kind. Bob was born in Greenville, Texas, in 1894. He served in World War I, and sometime in the 1920s he made his way to Matador.

By 1932 he was working as a gas station attendant; just a man pumping gas in a small West Texas town. But that same year, he decided to open a service station of his own. And here is where Bob Robertson parted ways with ordinary thinking.

To promote his new business, he built a wooden oil derrick right over the station. Not a sign. Not a banner.

A derrick. He patented the design, which tells you something about the man: he knew what he had. Then in 1939 he replaced that wooden structure with one of steel.

Eighty-four feet of it, reaching up into the Motley County sky, fitted out with lights. You could see that thing coming from a long way off, and that was entirely the point. But the derrick was just the beginning.

Bob kept a cage of live rattlesnakes at the station (for the amusement of tourists, the marker says, and I'll take that at face value). From that one rattling attraction grew an entire zoo. Lions.

Monkeys. Coyotes. A white buffalo.

Other animals the marker doesn't even bother to name. At a gas station. In Matador, Texas.

And if you somehow hadn't heard about Bob's Oil Well, Bob was working on that too. He paid long distance truckers to place advertising signs at strategic points across the nation; signs noting the mileage to Bob's Oil Well in Matador. Those signs became well known to the motoring public.

People rolling through on the highway would have seen his name ticking down, mile by mile, long before they ever hit town. The success of all that showmanship gave Robertson room to grow. He enlarged his operation to include a grocery, a café, and a garage.

And beyond the business, he was an active civic leader in Matador; particularly interested, the marker tells us, in recognizing those who served in the military during World War II. Bob Robertson died in 1947. And then, two weeks later, a high wind came through and toppled the steel derrick.

The trademark of everything he'd built, gone, just like that, barely a fortnight behind the man himself. But Bob's widow, Olga (Olga Cunningham Robertson), she wasn't finished. Two years later she restored the derrick, and this time with even larger lights.

The business, though, didn't continue long after. It closed in the 1950s. Later efforts to reopen it were short-lived.

Olga passed in 1993. What's left today is a reminder; the marker says it plainly; of a time when bold roadside architecture was still in its infancy, and of a man who used every tool at his disposal to put his adopted hometown on the map. Eighty-four feet of steel.

A zoo built around a cage of rattlesnakes. Truckers carrying his name to every corner of the country. Bob Robertson didn't just run a service station.

He built a landmark and pointed the whole nation toward it.

What the marker says

Greenville, Texas native Luther Bedford "Bob" Robertson (1894-1947), a veteran of World War I, came to Matador in the 1920s. He was a gas station attendant in 1932 when he decided to open a service station here. To promote his new business, he built a wooden oil derrick over the station. He patented his design, and in 1939 replaced the wooden derrick with one of steel that reached 84 feet in height and included lights. Robertson was a gifted businessman and promoter, and he used any opportunity to advertise his operation and attract customers. He kept a cage of live rattlesnakes for the amusement of tourists, and from that initial attraction grew a zoo that included lions, monkeys, coyotes, a white buffalo and other animals. He paid long distance truckers to place advertising signs at strategic points across the nation noting the mileage to Bob's Oil Well in Matador, and they became well known to the motoring public. As a result of his success, Robertson enlarged his operation to include a grocery, café and garage. In addition to his business skills, Robertson was an active civic leader in Matador. He was particularly interested in recognizing the efforts of those who served in the military during World War II. Bob Robertson died in 1947, and two weeks later a high wind toppled the steel derrick that had been the trademark of his business. His widow, Olga (Cunningham) (d. 1993), restored it two years later with even larger lights. The business did not continue long after, however, and closed in the 1950s. Later efforts to reopen it were short-lived. Today, the site serves as a reminder of a time when such bold roadside architecture was in its infancy and of a man who, through his business, widely promoted his adopted hometown. (2005)