I would like to offer a toast to one of the humblest and hardest-working men I know, and also to his family. Here’s to you, Rowdy Blankenship, you made it buddy!
I haven’t known Rowdy and his family long. I had the privilege of meeting Terry Blankenship near an oil location where we both passed daily a couple years back. Sometime around September of 2021 the father-son-duo started running relief for me. “Relief” is pumper lingo for unpaid time off. I had one well that I handed over to them on a full-time basis. I babied that well to squeeze every drop of production out of it possible. I just assumed no one would ever pay as much attention to it and there would be no chance of a relief outfit actually keeping production on target. To my surprise, the first month Rowdy and Terry increased production by almost 9 %. The two of them kept up the hard work and I was seriously impressed by their diligence, knowledge and genuine humility. Simply put they did the work, didn’t ask for a thank you, and it was easy for me to forget about what previously occupied many hours of my day. In a word, they were dependable.
Many men just like Rowdy and Terry go unnoticed to all the world as they work not just from dawn to dusk but from dawn to dawn drilling, completing and producing the oil and gas wells that supply the life blood of our economy and the gas that makes us all go. However, on a cold day last January Rowdy became the talk of the town for a reason we would all have wished would have never come to be. For a few weeks he received all of our attention. I’ll give you my rendition of the events. It’s not a story that is enjoyable to tell, but it is one that reminds me that we must keep fighting, keep pressing on, and never give up.
I was hopping in my truck, as usual five minutes late to a business meeting in OKC. I saw a cloud of smoke and my honest first thought was, “who is the drunk that decided to burn today.” Hindsight being 20/20, I should have known it wasn’t cedar trees or trash being burned as the cloud was deep black. A minute later I hit the black top headed west towards Thomas. Terry called me and in his regular tone asked me if I was near my house and if I could go help Rowdy with a fire. I thought he was asking me to go help Rowdy light a burner on a production unit or something like that. I told him I was already late and had to run. Then, in only a slightly louder tone, he said his well was on fire. I immediately knew what the smoke was and flipped around. My house was one mile from the well that started the blaze.
In less than a couple minutes I hit the gravel and didn’t let off the gas. I pulled into the location and noticed Rowdy’s truck was engulfed in flames, along with the rest of the equipment and the surrounding grass, and I quickly realized it was worse than I thought. A stiff cold wind was blowing north to south, and I saw a group of men standing around Rowdy on the north end of the location. He was on his feet, but his Carhartt overalls were a nightmare. The legs were burned to shreds up to the thighs and his jeans below were black and charred. I ran to the group of men, not paying any attention to who they were and fixed my eyes straight on Rowdy’s. The men, some of whom were my neighbors, urged me not to touch him. Rowdy spoke to me and said, “Brady, I lost all of your reports in the truck.” I told him I didn’t care about the reports, I just wanted to make sure he would be okay.
The truth was however, Rowdy was far from okay. His hands, arms, face, neck and shoulder were badly burned, and he had cuts and scrapes all over from the war he had waged on his own flesh to put out the fire. Rowdy later told me that he had almost given up the fight but had thought of his family and continued to roll and slap the flames until they ceased. Later, we had a wry laugh about how “Stop, drop and roll” doesn’t work as good as you would like it to when your covered in flammable liquid.
Darren had called the ambulance and the helicopter was on its way, but for a few minutes we just stood there. Rowdy was worried about his dogs, who had been killed in the fiery blast. He was in pretty bad pain and had voiced at one point that he didn’t want to die. My next words were something that I think Rowdy still holds against me to this day. I told him, “Listen Rowdy, you are as tough as nails, you came through that fire and you’re still on your feet. Don’t worry, brother, it’s just like a bad sunburn. You’re gonna live!” I was lying through my teeth. Rowdy was in bad shape, but I put on my best poker face and tried to assure, or maybe the right word is “convince” my pal he would live. When I went to see Rowdy in the hospital three weeks later, he said, “Brady, when you said that sunburn bit, I just knew you were going to someday make a great politician because you sure are full of crap”. We both got a good laugh out of this.
We were still standing there waiting on the ambulance and Todd suggested that we pray. I remember praying for God to give Rowdy hope that He would take care of him and through a choking voice I remember quoting the portion of Isaiah 53 that says, “Surely our griefs He [Jesus] himself bore, and our sorrows He carried; Yet we ourselves esteemed Him stricken, Smitten of God and afflicted. But He was pierced through for our transgressions, He was crushed for our iniquities; the chastening for our well-being fell upon Him and by his scourging we are healed.” Terry drove in a couple minutes later and Todd and I met him at his truck and gave him the bad news and prepared him to see Rowdy. Terry cried. I think we all cried a bit and hurt a lot for our friend.
Shortly the ambulance and fire department arrived, and they loaded Rowdy into the ambulance. A few minutes later, more fire departments arrived and then the helicopter landed. They decided to intubate Rowdy, so we stood there for an hour as they prepared to fly him to OKC. We hung out with Terry and watched the fire department finish putting out the flames. They had cut Rowdy’s shirt off him and we prepared to move him from the ambulance to the gurney so he could be moved to the helicopter. I’ll never forget the moment when we picked Rowdy up and set him on the gurney. Terry was behind someone and leaned forward and kissed an unconscious Rowdy on his shoulder. I cried again.
We worried for days, first whether he would live. Then we worried for days if he would keep his hands. Rowdy was in the hospital for a couple months and has had more than a few trips back for surgeries. Today, Rowdy is scarred, and he still has a long way to go with his recovery, but he is still with us because he didn’t give up. I think we can all learn a couple lessons from the events that happened last January and take some inspiration from his will to fight.
#1. When life knocks you down, dumps gasoline on you, then tosses a match, fight. Don’t give up. Fight to keep your marriage. Fight to keep your kids. Fight for your business. Fight for your country. Fight for your dreams. Fight to kick the addiction. Put your phone down, go run a mile and fight for your health. Write your goals down and fight every day to be a better man or woman tomorrow.
#2. We are not promised one breath. Live every day as though it were your last. Go see your aging grandpa or loved one. Play with your kids. The Bible says that our lives are like a vapor that quickly disappears, and after this life, we will all stand before our Maker and give an account. We have all fallen short of the glory of God and need His grace. Simply put the gospel is this, we broke God’s law, Jesus paid the fine when He died on the cross. We told the lies, took His name in vain, and selfishly put ourselves before others. Forsake your sins, put your faith in Jesus, pick up a Bible and learn to live to please God. When you fail Him, take a lesson from Rowdy, stand back up and fight again tomorrow.