© 2004
When I was a child 9 or 10, a pumpjack similar to this was a short distance from our home. Back then, being the early sixties, gasoline engines powered the pumps. The steady thump of the exhaust of the slow turning engines became as comforting as a heartbeat. To this day the smell of crude and the steady rhythm of a pumping unit recall vivid memories, and bring restful comfort.
This unit was photographed in that same area. Those were wonderful days - roaming the fields, going to work with my grandfather as he tended the wells, visiting the oil camps.
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