Joe David Havens was born on a farm between Guthrie and Edmond, Oklahoma, on August 19, 1929. The timing of his birth was, to be kind, most unfortunate. Two months later, America's infamous financial calamity occurred. History calls it Black Tuesday, the Stock Market Crash of October 29, 1929. The devastating collapse was a spectacular event by any measure, particularly coming on the heels of an equally spectacular extended bull market. Barely a month after Joe's birth, the Dow Jones Industrial Average topped out at 386. It didn't return to that level until November 1954, a full quarter-century later! At its worst, the Dow dropped 89%, to 40.56 in July 1932. In the first twenty years of his life, Havens would bear witness to Black Tuesday, The Great Depression and World War II. Despite hard times, Joe persevered, becoming the first in his family to earn a college degree. He became a top propane salesman, and in 1968, started his own business, Enterprise Petroleum Company. In 1990, Joe sold out to his longtime partner, Dan Duncan. Today, Enterprise is one of the dominant mid-stream companies in the petroleum industry, and Duncan is one of America's wealthiest men.
On the southern rim of the Great Basin, north and east of a sun-baked ninety-mile desert coils lush Mountain Meadows. It is a serpentine pass located in what will become Washington County, Utah's extreme southwestern corner, beginning about eight miles south of the tiny community of Pinto. The Meadows, five miles in length and generally one mile wide, dramatically narrows near its southwest terminus. At its midpoint a gentle divide rises and falls between the Basin and the Pacific Slope. Life-giving fountains gurgle on opposite ends of the valley. The large western spring supports a coverlet of coarse mountain grass on the southern surface of the pass's thin ankle. An eight-foot bank rises from the spring, a monument to its ageless trickle. Below the bank stretches 300 yards of level ground, ideal for encampment. On this spot, 140 men, women, and children, oxen and mules for forty wagons and six carriages, 900 head of thirsty cattle, and 250 horses stopped to quench their thirst and to seek temporary refuse from the interminable heat and dust of a four-month journey. Avenging angels lurked in the canebrakes nearby. ( Vengence is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord.
Mired in a steamy, mosquito-infested thicket north of sprawling Houston, a bemused Jimmy Beard gaped at the contents of a weathered metal box resting in the shadows of the sentinel pine¡-row upon row of tightly bound packets, neatly stacked in orderly layers. Should he report this trove to the authorities? He was already rich. Additional wealth offered little allure. But its challenges intrigued him. He could hide the illicit treasure¡-then launder it to blunt the numbing repetition of his life. In Mexico¡_s Nuevo Laredo, the brutal drug kingpin, Jose Luis Guerra, rallied his dark forces. Only imprudent men stole from Luis Guerra. Like hungry jackals, his vengeful minions filtered into Houston¡_s dark crevices stalking their prey. In Scottsdale, Abbie Hart fashioned a trendy frame to showcase a western art masterpiece. Random memories stirred recollections of past loves¡-scandalous ex-husband, Russel Hart¡-reliable buddy, Jimmy Beard. Affairs of the heart rooted in Houston¡_s chaotic early 1980¡_s. A stirring deep in her belly exposed powerful lingering emotions. Russel had brought excitement¡-and sadness¡-into her life. Jimmy had been trustworthy, but married. Ancient sorrows¡-ancient joys.
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