Emmitt Domain
by Perry Cozzen
Photo courtesy of Wendy Lynn Wright
E
mmitt grew up tough, running
money for his bookie daddy on
Jacksboro Highway when he
was twelve. Up until then, he had it
pretty easy. School wasn’t hard for
him, and he picked it up real quick.
His daddy’s name was H.J., and he
controlled the whole road. He sent
Emmitt in with the book and the
money and he picked it up, or paid it
off. His daddy sat in his big Buick
idling, and waited on the boy. It was a
hard-running Buick with a big heater
on the seat.
Emmitt learned fast, and could do
the math in his head, up to several
thousand dollars, and down to the
quarter dollar. Didn’t take Emmitt
long to start taking his ten percent. His
daddy understood it, admired him for
it, and knew he would eventually move
on.
The mayor hung out at a fairly
clean joint close to downtown. He took
a liking to Emmitt. He told him one
22
day, you can learn the politics game
around here if you want to make some
real money.
The next election Emmitt stayed
close to the mayor, and carried a little
money for him too. Fuzzy Brown won
big, and ran for the state rep next time
around.
Emmitt moved up to a bigger
crowd, and the money got bigger. All
Fuzzy’s friends took a liking to him,
and taught him everything they knew.
The election was a runaway, as they
say.
A few bridges, a little paving on
small roads, but it added up to a good
amount of money in Fuzzy’s campaign
fund. Emmitt took care of the money,
along with his ten percent plus expens-
es.
Things moved quicker all the time,
and soon Fuzzy was governor. Emmitt
had the office by the front door. Lots of
people that wanted some little things
done by the governor stopped in
Cenizo
Second Quarter 2017
Emmitt’s office, and spoke directly to
him.
The money got a lot bigger, and
everything was somehow connected to
the state. If you wanted to move some
electricity to the cities, if water got
pipelined, and if you had to move your
natural gas and oil, everybody had to
get a permit. Emmitt learned their
business, where they were going, and
when it happened.
Emmitt went back to Fort Worth
for a few days, and ran into an old
buddy downtown at the Petroleum
Club. He started telling Emmitt that
he was involved in easements for
pipelines around Midland, and the
price per foot to the landowner. It did-
n’t take Emmitt long to add it up in his
head, and he knew he wanted in on the
deal.
His friend’s name was Larry Don,
and lived in Midland. They ate lunch,
and hung around the bar most of the
afternoon. Emmitt asked, “Larry, do
you work on a commission?”
“Yeah, I’ve just been in it around
three years, but it’s coming around a
little better. Stay in touch Emmitt, I
need to go, and head back to Midland
in the morning.”
“Good to run into you Larry, I may
get back in touch about these ease-
ments.”
Emmitt had met a woman in Austin
named Nancy Austin that was kin to
the original Austin family. She had
worked at the Railroad Commission
for 25 years. They were friends from
the start, and both of them got togeth-
er every week just to celebrate happy
hour on Friday.
Nancy walked in and sat down with
Emmitt. “What’ve you been up to,
Emmitt?”
“I just got back from Fort Worth,
and it’s been steady on my mind since
then. An old friend is in the easement
business in Midland, pipelines for nat-
ural gas and oil. You must see all of