I have always known Eddie,  but the most memorable times were when I was 11 or 12 years old. Eddie would come out to Aunt Mable’s to help my dad, Donald Smith, cut , bale hay, brand and work cattle. Those are memories that have stayed with me my whole life. There was always so much laughter and good-natured teasing about who could rope the best. Eddie always had his favorite horse, Strict, by his side.

What I remember most about Eddie was his heart. Even years later, when my dad got sick, Eddie never forgot about him. He would call just to check on him and see how he was doing. That kind of loyalty and kindness says everything about the kind of man Eddie was. . Eddie was a good friend, a good cowboy, and a good man. He will be deeply missed, but never forgotten. 🤍

I recorded my dad telling this story about early in his landman career.  It's one of my favorites.  Here's how he told the story:

So I went down there.  This is a wild story, but I just drive out to the ranch looking around like I don't know any better.

This guy in a great big truck stops me and said, “Hey, boy, what now you doing out here?” I introduced myself and got to talking to him. He said, “You don't sound like you from a big company.” I said, “Well, I'm not. I grew up in the country, in South Louisiana and East Texas.”

He looked at me and said, “Where in East Texas.” I told him, “Golden.” He looked at me and said, “Did you know mister… can't think of his first name, but his last name was Smith?” And I said, “Yes, sir. He gave me my first job pitching watermelons.”

He said, “Well, you got to be all right. Me and him done business together for 20 years.” He gave me everything I needed.

I go back in and tell them what the deal is. They were just shocked. Half a dozen people couldn't even talk to him down there. Think how coincidental that was.

Kenny: “Oh my gosh. Do you think that that helped you?”

“Oh, yeah.”

And then I started buying leases. There was one lease that nobody had ever been able to even talk to this old black man about. So I was working over there in that area, not just associated with that, but I was buying leases.

After I'd been there about a year, I'd go by and see Mr. Jack. Didn't bring up business at all. Just got to know him. I'd walk in his house—windows open, chickens in the house, pen-up pictures on the wall.

After about six months of me going by there every three or four weeks, sometimes every two weeks, I'd take him down to the local cafe. He’d say, “Buy me a beer. We'll play a game of pool.” If I bought him a beer, I couldn't talk business.

After probably at least four or five months of just doing that with him, I drive up one day and his son—his last name was Fontenot, a Cajun name—they were light-complected, dark hair, blue eyes. One of his boys came out and said, “Well, Dad said he's ready to sign a lease with you.”

It was on 40 acres that, when they bought the leases, they bought the record title. But Mr. Jack had been living there for over 50 years, which meant he actually owned it. The rice farmers that had record title had given him a quitclaim deed—not full ownership.

Texaco got a title opinion on all of it, and the fact that he obtained ownership through adverse possession trumped everything. That meant he owned all of it, including the gas rights.

So I bought a lease from him where the original landman had bought it from the record title owners, which is natural. That one lease, right off the bat, was worth almost $2 million to Texaco. That gave me a feather in the cap.

But I was able to do things because the six attorneys—they were lawyers—they didn't understand dealing with people. So anything that's hard and complicated, they’d get me to do it.

Mr. Jack was a character. He had four or five boys that lived kind of in a circle around his house, and every one of them was good-looking. They weren’t any darker than me, had a little bit of a curl to their hair, bright blue eyes. Every one of them married white women, which was unheard of back in the 70s.

They were an unusual family. They didn’t just have blue eyes—they had bright blue, really bright blue eyes.