By George

By Alan Neil

This book is a collection of memories and friends. I was born and raised in the woods of East Texas, but my travels carried me around the Earth four times a year for 27 years. Living and working in foreign countries tested my personal beliefs daily but the more I learned the more I know exactly why my parents and family taught me the values that guided that guided me to happiness and success wherever I went and whoever I worked with. Fear was never an option or something that I understood because I understood from my family teaching me that GOD created everything and everybody.

I am sure that life is never ending because I know that others live within me, and I will live in others as a memory.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Aug 30, 2023
• ISBN: 9781663255464

Alan Neil

To be added later

Book preview

Copyright © 2023 Alan Neil.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by

any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying,

recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system

without the written permission of the author except in the case of

brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents,

organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products

of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

iUniverse

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.iuniverse.com

844-349-9409

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or

links contained in this book may have changed since publication and

may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those

of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher,

and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are

models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

ISBN: 978-1-6632-5547-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6632-5546-4 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2023915545

iUniverse rev. date:  08/15/2023

Contents

Chapter 1     George

Chapter 2     K8

Chapter 3     Tanti and Neil

Chapter 4     Chop Chop

Chapter 5     The King

Chapter 6     Joe T

Chapter 7     Murph

Chapter 8     Illegals

Chapter 9     Nympho

Chapter 10   First Oil

Chapter 11   Poems that Make No Sense

Chapter 12   Freedom ain’t Free

Chapter 1

33818.png

George

In the later years of my life, I look back at the name George,

A name that made me proud of who I am.

The first was an English king who spoke mostly German and was not a caring man.

He only wanted money from people who moved to the New World land.

Most of them couldn’t worship God as they chose or make a living at home,

and they didn’t understand why.

They had to pay so many taxes when they were just getting by.

The Scots were driven from their homeland so sheep could roam free.

The Irish starved to death, and others watched and just let them be.

Europeans came to escape the ravages of being servants and war.

Africans were stolen from their homes, bought, and sold like a tree,

All any of them wanted was to live free.

This curious mix of servants, Pilgrims, and slaves lived in the New World without fear,

And they sent King George a letter; it said, Dear King George, listen to us, dear.

And remember you may have the strongest army, but we have in God we trust.

Do to us what you can, and we will do to you what we must.

Then we had a soldier named George who whipped King George’s

Mighty army into submission for his freedom and his belief.

He could have been king, but this George said, No, because he only wanted relief.

They made him our first president, but he only wanted to be free.

He said, Being a king is not for me.

We had a great general named George who fought in World Wars I and II.

His way of fighting was old-fashioned, but his understanding of wars was tried and true.

When his soldiers said, We will die for our country, he said, That’s totally untrue.

Your job as soldiers is to make the enemy die for you; it isn’t done until we are through.

Another George came to Texas as fast as he could.

He wanted to be Oilman George, and it seemed that it was only Texans who understand

That making something from nothing just by thinking is what makes all men great.

Their workday starts and ends long before and after the clock reaches eight.

This man had been a baseball player who had to go off to war, a war that we had to win.

He flew his fighter airplane only to get shot down again.

He spent a long time in the ocean, worrying if he would ever get home.

He finally came to Texas and made a living finding oil in dirt and stone.

The fire of the free spirit of his beliefs burned a hole in his gut.

He had to help others and give all people a chance, and he never got in a rut.

This George wasn’t big on singing, and he wasn’t big on dance.

He wanted people to be the best they could be, and he gave them all a chance,

To be free like the land, sky, woods, and waters of Texas.

He became our President George, and he was loved by all.

He never liked being president and never knew why.

We all understood this George, and even though his kids were a mess,

He never lost hope for them and knew it was just his test.

His smile always told us he was doing his best.

The next George was also Houston proud and raised by a single mom.

She was a hardworking woman and demanded that good be done.

George grew up, got in trouble at school, and rarely had fun.

He tried to live his life by the Golden Rule that his mom taught him needed to be done.

It seemed he was always hungry, but food was in short supply.

He would take other kids’ lunch money, and they wouldn’t even ask why.

He would ask them nicely to give it, but if they refused,

His fists were swift and hard, and a fight he would never lose.

A boxing man saw him getting some free lunch money and admired his skill and speed,

And he turned him into Boxer George, and it fulfilled his family need.

He was the world heavyweight champ twice, fought all the best with thrills,

But he is equally known for his food grills.

They can be used anywhere and anytime, and they are easy to clean with no mess.

A grilled sandwich makes everything fine—it was the best.

Boxing George was called the king.

We have another George who plays baseball.

He grew up in Yankee land and doubted if he could play pro.

He tried his best and passed the test,

But he couldn’t talk or utter without a stutter.

His play told his story, but he really wanted to talk.

He fought his tears and fears of stuttering and said,

"I have things to say, and there is no other way,

Except to try to speak—even if it takes all day."

His voice became clear, and we all said, Oh, dear.

When he led the way to win it all, a hurricane taught us that baseball isn’t just a game.

This George was the World Series MVP and likely Hall of Famer.

Texas has other Georges, and they are not just a household name.

Minnesota used up our Texas George, and it made us angry and ashamed.

We all watched as Street George died, murdered in cold blood, live on TV,

Hands cuffed behind his back, lying on the ground, unable to get free.

A cop drove his knee into George’s neck, cutting off blood flow to his brain.

Surrounded by more cops and other people, no one made a move to stop his pain.

It was like no one cared or understood that Street George was pretty good.

Our George was killed without being condemned in a court of law, and it wasn’t understood.

He had no appeal except to his mother as he died; we watched in disbelief, and it wasn’t good.

Police said, George got killed for a fake twenty-dollar bill.

America exploded in anger; America, from all sides,

We demanded things be changed, and changes will be made.

Texas George didn’t die for nothing; the story goes so deep, lest we be afraid.

Every person in America has witnessed the government’s war on drugs,

Yet every American kid of the age of George could get free drugs but not hugs.

In Houston, our police chief led the George protest—there was no other way.

I really wish his name was Jorge.

He led the protestors through the streets so our message could be heard.

Even with his emotions being drained, he wasn’t short of words.

The mayor cried on live TV, and we all couldn’t let it go.

There was too much of the story we wanted the world to know.

Street George got in trouble with drugs and embarrassed his family,

Because the war on drugs was just society’s profit plan—and drugs were free.

They took no responsibility for George the man, and this was hard to understand.

Drugs grew unavoidable to his generation at school or on the street,

And in spite of a war, drugs never missed a beat.

His family and friends understood him and his big heart,

And so did Houston, America, and the world in part.

He became a story of wrong that we all wanted to tell.

Heaven wanted George—but not hell.

We keep raising questions long after he died.

It was such a senseless death, such a loss with no pride.

Some say drugs were the reason George died, but he was killed inside.

The government’s war on drugs isn’t a war.

It’s merely an extended fundraiser for a political false dream.

Some said that George just couldn’t say, No,

But heaven knows he tried.

Moving far away from Texas just to start anew,

Only to be murdered by a death that no one could understand,

Some people had a problem with George the man,

And there was nothing new left for him.

In death, he won over a country that will forever demand change.

We have the right to live free of fear, drugs, crooked politicians, and worthless cops.

When Street George died, the world cried.

Our loss of George will never subside.

The name George is pretty special in Houston, this built-by-God Texas town.

We have the best Georges ever to be found.

They will never be gone, and we will never be alone.

With our Georges, you can’t burn them down or take them away.

Every one of our Georges—from presidents to drug heads—had something to say.

Chapter 2

33818.png

K8

In a place named Kuwait, we went to work,

To build a plant to turn oil into gold.

American magic, so it seemed,

New technology for a country so old.

One hour from the city,

And it was like our old Bible.

The ports once held the ships

Of Alexander the Great.

It was hard to understand the importance,

As our mission was oil and gold.

Then one night, four of us camped on the beach,

I saw what Western civilization meant to me.

Behind us was a Kuwaiti beach house,

Where men and wives came to be holiday free.

As we lay in the sand, listening to sound of music and waves,

Someone said, He is killing a sheep.

The full-grown ram had spiral horns,

And his testicles nearly touched the ground,

We watched as the Kuwaitis petted the sheep,

To calm him down.

Then one man took a knife from his belt,

Stood over the sheep and rubbed its neck.

The sheep slowly relaxed as his head turned side to side,

Then swiftly the knife cut his neck veins,

As the man turned the sheep’s head from side to side.

We could see the blood spray in the air,

But the sheep never moved a muscle.

He was standing dead in a minute or two,

Colin the Jordie threw up in a forceful spew.

He told our feelings well and true.

In minutes, the sheep was gutted and skinned.

We all four had feelings we could not sell,

But I had killed farm animals for food.

I knew this process so well.

Still, the hypnotic cunning by the Kuwaitis,

Left me feelings I couldn’t tell.

There was almost a passion in the killing,

For a mere chunk of meat to eat.

No regrets, no remorse, no feelings.

I was amazed by the sheep’s still feet,

And for the next two days, I wanted nothing to eat.

Chapter 3

33818.png

Tanti and Neil

Neil had been retired for ten years. Before he retired, he had purchased some land in southeast Texas. The land was just unimproved land, but he had worked hard to make it into a working ranch. Finally, he succeeded, and one of his cows had been chosen as champion at the county fair. Most of his neighbors and most of the larger ranch owners in the county were present or represented in the arena. It was full of people viewing the cows for selection as champion. The livestock judges chose the cow that was the third generation on his ranch.

Neil was very happy rancher and cowboy. The hard work had paid off, and he thought he could finally retire. The land was cleared, the fences were built, the pasture was improved to grow year-round grasses, and a barn was built for cold weather shelter for the cows, and a new retirement home was built for the family.

Neil and his wife were both leaving the ranch for separate trips into town. As he waited for his wife to drive through the gate, he looked up and noticed how clear the Texas sky was. There was only one small cloud in sight. The road from the ranch into town ran from east to west, and as he watched his wife driving out of the gate, he looked at the small cloud. He noticed something silver inside the cloud. The cloud was about thirty degrees due west. The cloud was less than a mile away, and the silver color appeared to look like a bell. The silver object was like a water tower, but it was moving. At the bottom of the object, he saw air vents that were making the cloud.

The object came into clear view, and it appeared the cloud making the vents on the bottom had stopped working. As he watched, a light came out of the bell and focused on him. He recognized it as a UFO and pretended he wasn’t watching it as he turned to close the gate. He locked the gate in about five seconds, and he looked up again as he got in the truck. The silver bell had completely disappeared. The clear sky showed no sign of it.

He drove toward where the object had been and realized the object had been less than 1,500 yards away. He asked his wife if she had seen the small cloud, but she said no. He got on the computer to see if anyone else had seen the silver bell, and to his surprise, he found a video of exactly what he had seen. The odd part was that it had been seen by others, and the videos had been made in Northern England and Denmark. He was really confused. His only comfort was knowing it was a man-made object. The operator had a malfunctioning cloud maker. He thought it was a spy drone with a cloud maker, and he smiled as he thought of the operator or pilot problems. He had no explanation for the bright light.

A few months later, on a perfectly clear day, he was mowing the grass in the middle of the ranch. The silver bell came down and landed next to his tractor. He stopped, turned off the mower, and watched as a man got out of the silver bell.

The man walked over to him, smiled, and said, Are you Alan?

He thought, Why did he call me Alan? No one ever calls me Alan—even though it is my first name. All his life, he had been addressed by his middle name, Neil.

The man said, Tanti wants to see you. There had been only one Tanti in his life, and that had been a long time ago. She had always called him Alan. She never called him Neil even though their coworkers called him Neil. He never knew why she never called him Neil, but he often wondered about it. He said, Yes, I want to see Tanti. My wife will be home soon, and if she finds the tractor in the middle of the field, she will be upset.

He drove the tractor to the barn, and the bell followed him. Before getting in the silver bell, he asked How long will this take?

The man smiled and said, Not too long … we will be back soon. The inside of the silver bell was very simple. It was twenty-five feet in diameter and twenty-five feet tall. A small ladder went to the top of the bell where five seats were located along the wall for passengers and one larger seat in the center with controls for the pilot. The silver bell was not metal, but see-through materials allowed everyone inside to see out. Its engine was metal, and it looked like circular round stacks of different kinds of metal with a one-foot layer of gold in the middle. The engine was about five feet in diameter of layered metal that was four feet tall, and each metal disk turned in different directions at different speeds.

The controls looked simple, and the pilot moved the metals and the silver bell with a simple control that he held in one hand. There were no vibrations or sounds as the bell lifted to a height that showed the entire city of Houston. Houston was forty miles to the north, and the Gulf of Mexico that was fifteen miles to the south.

Neil relaxed as the bell silently moved higher, and other cities could be seen. In a moment, nothing could be seen outside the silver bell. In less than five minutes, the bell was coming down somewhere in the Pacific Ocean. As he looked down, he recognized Hawaii and the islands leading to the coast of Australia. The wall of the bell was like a microscope that magnified the view as he moved closer to the wall. He thought, Those are the islands where America and France tested their nukes.

The bell stopped, and he saw where they were going. There was an entire city made of red stone, and it was built underwater. Surrounding the entire city was a silver glass wall that went to the bottom of the ocean, and the entire city was built on land but underwater. The wall of glass protecting the city was very thick and covered by a dome roof that was partially open. Miles of coral reefs prevented any seacraft from getting near the glass tube. The dome roof was open, and he could see the entire city as they landed.

He looked at his watch, and less than five minutes had passed since he got inside the silver bell and traveled to the other side of the Earth. The man piloting the craft saw Neil look at his watch and smiled.

As the bell landed in the city, it was clear that the buildings were not small. The buildings were more than three hundred stories tall, and each building was at least a mile wide. The entire city looked to be thirty-five miles wide. The buildings were built like pyramids, and there were thousands of them. All of the buildings were sandy red and layered with one window on top and five windows in each cluster of every level. Neil had no idea what was inside the buildings, but they looked very old.

As the bell completed its landing, Neil thought about Tanti. He had met Tanti while working for an oil company in Central Sumatra. The oil field was large and had produced more than a million barrels of oil per day. The Japanese had invaded Sumatra during World War II to get fuel for their war effort. After the war, a joint venture American company had taken over the oil field as the shackles of colonial rule were removed from Indonesia. A national oil company was formed.

The location was near the equator, and the sunrises and sunsets changed very little each day. The surrounding jungles provided challenges to keep the ever-growing vegetation from reclaiming the roads and pipelines. The diversity of animals and indigenous people were still being discovered, but bears, tigers, elephants, rhinos, and a thousand breeds of birds and monkeys made each day an exciting day to see God’s creations. The rivers and freshwater lakes were filled with man-eating animals and fish.

Sumatra was not tamed, but it had been exploited for its resources for a thousand years. There were also many unknown diseases and cures for diseases lurking and living in the jungles. People from all of Indonesia’s seventeen thousand islands came to its largest island to find work. Sumatra always had jobs and land for those who were brave enough to live there with the animals.

The American company built cities and camps and provided electricity, pipelines, and roads. The company employed more than one hundred thousand employees and food stores, hospitals, and schools. The hotels, golf courses, and restaurants were hidden gems in the jungle. Airports and seaports were built for the oil company and its workers.

The world-class oil was sold at a premium, and most of the employees never left the confines of the company towns. The state government was poorly funded and was fully supported by the oil company. Neil lived and worked there for five years. His office was in a camp and town named Minas. Minas was also the name of the oil. He was a contractor who spent most days in the oil field, but he had an office in Minas. That was there where he met Tanti, and she seemed as strange as everything else in Sumatra. Her parents were medical doctors from Java, and her mother was hired to work in the oil company hospital. Her father was a doctor in Java, and it was not clear if they were divorced. Tanti never spoke about her brothers or sisters if she had any.

Tanti was a clerk and worked just across the hall from Neil’s office. He was seldom in the office, but when he was, he would always see Tanti. She had a pleasant smile and was usually very quiet. She was beautiful, and she didn’t look very Indonesian or even Asian. She looked Middle Eastern—but in no specific way. Her office was in the middle of the building, and her boss’s office was directly behind her desk. Neil’s office was in front or her, but it was set off from her boss’s office.

Neil and Tanti could observe each other and hear each other talking every day. She rarely spoke to anyone except Neil or her boss. Her boss was an American from New York City and was not a very popular or talented person. He had gone to speech therapy to learn to not talk like a New Yorker because people laughed at him when he spoke.

The building and maintaining of roads, pipelines, and electrical power lines required the use of many pieces of heavy equipment. Tanti’s boss was the son-in-law of a company vice president, and he had a do-nothing job. He spent all day every day making studies to see if the most productive piece of equipment was being used. His only computer skill was using Excel spreadsheets on his Chinese clone computer. He made people upset when he spoke in meetings and referenced his spreadsheets because he rarely made trips to the jungle to see the actual conditions.

One day, the electrical superintendent decided to have some fun. His name was Jim, and he had been a navy pilot. He was educated in the US Naval Academy, and being a navy pilot had been his life—until he parked his second F-4 fighter plane in the Gulf of Tonkin during the Vietnam War. The navy told him he could no longer fly because he didn’t understand or appreciate the cost of airplanes.

Jim got out of the navy, started his own electrical company in Singapore, and took a job in Sumatra to make money to get his company up and going. He wouldn’t return to America until his own funeral, and even then, he requested that when he died, his right hand would be placed on his heart with his fingers folded down and his middle finger straight up, flipping the bird to the navy and anyone who called him a loser.

Jim and Neil were Dallas and Houston kind of friends. Jim often thought Neil was still crazy from his army days in Special Ops, and Neil thought Jim was crazy for flying F-4s off of ships, getting them shot up, and parking them in the water.

Jim and Neil both liked Tanti, and she kept both of them smiling. Her boss didn’t like Jim stopping by her desk for a flirting session, but Tanti liked talking to Jim.

Jim completed his dream of starting his company, but he passed away. His instructions were followed, and his body was flown back to Dallas for burial. Neil’s world seemed much smaller, and Tanti seemed more distanced from everyday life.

One day, Jim decided to teach Tanti’s boss a lesson. He copied some programming from Pac-Man, created a computer virus with it, and planted it on Tanti’s boss’s computer. When he was working on his heavy equipment spreadsheets, a Pac-Man figure would appear and start eating his data. When he rebooted his computer, everything was fine. All the data was there, but when he was updating spreadsheets the Pac-Man figure randomly ate up his numbers.

The virus was hidden very well, and the IT guru couldn’t find it. Tanti’s boss knew he was being messed with, but he was sure it was Neil and not Jim. After work, they had a few beers at the club. The entire bar was laughing as Neil and Jim discussed Pac-Man eating up the work. Tanti