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WE PICK UP WHERE WE LEFT OFF IN THE TALE OF KELLY KERR AND HIS TEMPORARY RELOCATION TO FORT WORTH AND SUBSEQUENT RETURN TO FORT STOCKTON IN TWO RECENTLY DISCOVERED CHAPTERS.

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Kelly Kerr was glad to be back in Fort Stockton in the late spring of 1964.  Glad to be around people he knew and in surroundings that made sense.  His job at Six Flags had been as surreal as the rides themselves.  His life in Fort Worth had become as fraught and frustrating as trying to hold on to the wall as the Spindletop ride went round and round, plastering people to the side of the ride with centrifugal force.

Despite valid reasons to justify it, he seemed to be a relatively happy guy.  Few people knew the details of his move to the Metroplex where he worked at the amusement park, suddenly married into money, and then just as suddenly was single again and back in Fort Stockton.  In general, folks were wrapped up in enough of their own sordid details to not pay that much attention to those of others.  Kelly easily blended back into the fabric of town.

He bounced around town in different jobs.  Having worked for eight months in the accounting department at the GM factory in Arlington, he knew an office job probably wasn’t what best meshed with his skillset.  But then, he wasn’t sure exactly how that skillset was defined.  Luckily, his desires were as simple as his ambitions.

In 1969 or ’70 Kelly’s mom, Willa, came down with the cancer and it spread quickly.  Her entire ordeal didn’t last as long as the one he’d gone through in Fort Worth. When she passed she left the house to Kelly as her only son.  It had been paid for a few years and Kelly moved in.

He drove the 1953 Ford Sunliner for years, learning how to do the maintenance on it himself.  Somewhere around 1972 or so the engine blew out on Highway 10.  Kelly took it as a sign that it might be time to part ways with the old ragtop.  The paint was thin, the top was in  need of replacement.  Parts were harder to come by.  Manny over at Manny’s Motor Mart gave him fifty bucks for it on trade for a 1967 Ford Mustang he had on the lot.

“Anything that’s not General Motors,” Kelly told him when he came in to look for a replacement car.  The 1967 Ford Mustang coupe was powered by a 289 cubic inch Challenger V8 paired with a three-speed automatic transmission and was finished in Lime Gold over Ivy Gold upholstery. Features included a black vinyl roof covering, hood vents, 14″ steel wheels, turbine-style wheel covers, power steering, front bucket seats, an AM radio, air conditioning, and an aftermarket dual exhaust system with Flowmaster mufflers.

Between his house being paid for and the Mustang being cheap transportation, Kelly got by easily on what he made as the assistant manager of the Eggs & Ammo convenience store.  He certainly didn’t have any pressure, and was always pleasant when customers came in.  “It’s really only temporary,” he’d tell people.  But he’d been there going on six years.

His cousin from Grand Prairie, Toby, drove down to see Kelly shortly after he got the Mustang and told him Manny had given him a bargain.  “Up in Dallas – Fort Worth, a low mileage ’67 like this would have gone for a grand more!  I’m driving down here next time I need a car.”  Toby still had the ’56 Ford F-100 the two of them had driven to work at Six Flags in the Summer of ’63, but it had become a hobby tucked in the garage of his parents house, not the daily driver it had been.

Toby had taken everything he learned managing people and amusements and parlayed the experience into real estate sales.  Dallas – Fort Worth was booming and Toby got into the market at just the right time.  Approaching the age of 40, in the time since they’d worked at Six Flags together Toby had gained a wife, three small children, a sizable real estate office and a new 1972 Lincoln Continental Mark IV.

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Toby hadn’t been to Fort Stockton since he was a small boy visiting with his parents.  The contrast between a town of 8,000 people and Dallas – Fort Worth that had 4,000,000 residents was amazing.  “How do you live here?” he asked his cousin over beers at the Lucky Lady.

“It’s all in what you’re used to, I suppose,” Kelly said.  “But I guess it’s a shock.  I know I never got used to it when I lived where you do.  So many people.  And the traffic!”  They laughed about the differences in small towns and big cities, including the women.  

“I’d be embarrassed to tell you how much I make in the real estate game,” Toby said.  “I’d be even more embarrassed to tell you how much my wife spends. Somehow, it’s always more than what I make, no matter what that figure is!”

Kelly laughed.  He’d told Toby the basics of what happened in the spring of ’64 and then never brought it up again.  

Kelly got a sense his cousin was disillusioned with having “made it big”.  The Dark Red Moondust Metallic over Maroon leather Mark V was the longest, most luxurious car he’d ever seen.  And the new home Toby and his wife had built in Arlington looked incredible, based on the pictures.  “I can actually see Six Flags from the deck in my backyard!  Ain’t that a kick?” Toby had said.  “All those memories right on the horizon.”  But there was a tone in his voice that hinted at disenchantment.

Toby only stayed in town two nights, then was off to Houston for some type of a real estate gathering where he was going to be a featured speaker.  It was the second night that they were at the Lucky Lady having a few beers.  Somehow, Toby had figured out that the answer to his cousin’s career stagnation was real estate.  “You’ve got the disposition for it!  Swear to God, you could be dragging down fifty K in a year.  You ought to think about moving back to Dallas- Fort Worth!”

Flattered, but not convinced, Kelly politely declined.  As the night wore on, Shannon Hudspeth saw an opportunity, Toby and his Mark IV providing a target worthy of her wiles.  After putting several quarters in the jukebox, Tammy Wynette started singing Bedtime Story as Shannon grabbed Toby’s hand and headed for the small dance floor.  Shortly thereafter, Toby was being led out the side door to the parking lot where he was glad he selected the maroon leather Comfort Lounge seating rather than the velour.

Another seven years went by.  Kelly was still at the Eggs & Ammo.  He heard less and less from his cousin.  In a Christmas card he received from his Aunt Nellie he read, in the form letter that came with it, that Toby had divorced.  He was engaged to be remarried to someone he’d met after the first of the year, in 1979.  Kelly felt bad for Toby’s three children.

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