Okla-homey
11/14/2006, 07:23 AM
I did, but I'm weird like that...
Postcards propelled Pink
By GENE CURTIS Tulsa World Staff Writer
11/8/2006
A colorful name and a feud with postal officials propelled an Oklahoma Democrat into two high state offices.
http://img206.imageshack.us/img206/6024/22061108a13postc26180a1hb8.jpg (http://imageshack.us)
Cowboy Pink Williams
The politician was Cowboy Pink Williams, who was elected lieutenant governor in 1954 and state treasurer in 1962, primarily on the basis of publicity he received from a feud over a postcard that postal officials considered obscene.
Williams wasn't the first Oklahoman with a colorful name to be elected to a state office -- that claim goes to William H. "Alfalfa Bill" Murray. But Alfalfa Bill was just Murray's nickname.
When he entered politics, Williams had his name legally changed to Cowboy Pink. After all, he had been known as Pink most of his life, and he wasn't too happy with his birth name of Simeon Pinckney Williams.
Born in 1892 in South Carolina, Williams came to Oklahoma in 1900 when his family settled in Caddo, where his father became a merchant. Williams attended the old subscription schools in which traveling teachers would teach in one town for a few months and then move on to another town. He later picked cotton and rode the rails throughout Oklahoma.
Williams operated a general store in Caddo and later in Ardmore, where he also ran a loan-sharking business. He made money in the stock market, lost some in the 1929 crash and made more later. He was semi-retired on his Atoka County ranch when his feud with the Post Office Department began.
Angry at President Dwight D. Eisenhower's beef import policy, Williams had printed 100,000 postcards bearing a picture of a kicking donkey. He inscribed them with an invitation to all Democrats who voted for Eisenhower to attend a "public ***-kicking" at his ranch.
The cards mentioned that re-prints were available at the rate of 20 for $1, and he eventually sold more than 500,000.
"Orders were pouring in at the rate of $500 a day. I didn't pocket any of the money," he told a Tulsa World reporter in 1975. "I just ordered more cards. I was mailing them to officials all over the nation when the government stopped the parade."
Williams fought the ban for months and told a postal appeals board, "Where I come from, they don't consider a kick in the rear obscene."
Because he "got more publicity that year than any other man" in Oklahoma, he said, he decided to take advantage of it and run for a political office. After studying a directory of state officials, he decided to run against Lt. Gov. Jim Berry, who had been in office for 20 years.
He ran what he called a plain folks campaign from the back of his battered farm truck. Williams and his wife would park their truck on a main street and spend hours visiting with people, eventually covering most of the state.
Williams and Berry got into a runoff and Williams immediately began telling voters "it's berry canning time."
The next January, sporting red and white cowboy boots and a Stetson hat, Williams presided over the opening session of the state Senate in a building he said he'd been in only once. "I'd only been in the statehouse once before," he said. "Showed it to my boys one day."
Because the lieutenant governor wasn't furnished a car in those days, Williams often hitchhiked to the Capitol. The Legislature finally appropriated $6,000 to buy him a car, and Williams announced he planned to buy a pink Cadillac with a picture of a kicking donkey on the side.
However, he bought a black Ford and gave back half of the money.
Williams organized his own military force while acting as governor during the chief executive's times out of state. But there were no privates or seamen -- just colonels or admirals.
It was fortunate that he never tried to mobilize his militia, but those of us who were honorary officers were ready to heed his call. I might have needed a reminder about whether I was an admiral or a colonel.
One day when Gov. Raymond Gary was out of the state, Williams issued 800 commissions. Gary averaged one commission per day. It wasn't unusual for people Williams met to receive commissions the next time the governor was out of state.
Williams was defeated for re-election by George Nigh of McAlester, who later became governor. The colorful politician ran for state treasurer four years later and won, but lost in the next election to Leo Winters.
In his last years, Williams, who died in 1976 a week before his 84th birthday, boasted of his thriftiness and referred to himself as "stingy."
To prove his point, at age 81, he took a 62-day trip by bus from Oklahoma to Alaska, then to Florida, up to Maine and across the country to San Francisco, spending less than $10 a day on food and lodging.
"The other passengers would flock to the cafes when the bus stopped," he said. "I'd just amble over to the grocery store and get a half-pound of salami, some crackers and a quart of buttermilk.
"I guess my mind doesn't run to luxury."
Postcards propelled Pink
By GENE CURTIS Tulsa World Staff Writer
11/8/2006
A colorful name and a feud with postal officials propelled an Oklahoma Democrat into two high state offices.
http://img206.imageshack.us/img206/6024/22061108a13postc26180a1hb8.jpg (http://imageshack.us)
Cowboy Pink Williams
The politician was Cowboy Pink Williams, who was elected lieutenant governor in 1954 and state treasurer in 1962, primarily on the basis of publicity he received from a feud over a postcard that postal officials considered obscene.
Williams wasn't the first Oklahoman with a colorful name to be elected to a state office -- that claim goes to William H. "Alfalfa Bill" Murray. But Alfalfa Bill was just Murray's nickname.
When he entered politics, Williams had his name legally changed to Cowboy Pink. After all, he had been known as Pink most of his life, and he wasn't too happy with his birth name of Simeon Pinckney Williams.
Born in 1892 in South Carolina, Williams came to Oklahoma in 1900 when his family settled in Caddo, where his father became a merchant. Williams attended the old subscription schools in which traveling teachers would teach in one town for a few months and then move on to another town. He later picked cotton and rode the rails throughout Oklahoma.
Williams operated a general store in Caddo and later in Ardmore, where he also ran a loan-sharking business. He made money in the stock market, lost some in the 1929 crash and made more later. He was semi-retired on his Atoka County ranch when his feud with the Post Office Department began.
Angry at President Dwight D. Eisenhower's beef import policy, Williams had printed 100,000 postcards bearing a picture of a kicking donkey. He inscribed them with an invitation to all Democrats who voted for Eisenhower to attend a "public ***-kicking" at his ranch.
The cards mentioned that re-prints were available at the rate of 20 for $1, and he eventually sold more than 500,000.
"Orders were pouring in at the rate of $500 a day. I didn't pocket any of the money," he told a Tulsa World reporter in 1975. "I just ordered more cards. I was mailing them to officials all over the nation when the government stopped the parade."
Williams fought the ban for months and told a postal appeals board, "Where I come from, they don't consider a kick in the rear obscene."
Because he "got more publicity that year than any other man" in Oklahoma, he said, he decided to take advantage of it and run for a political office. After studying a directory of state officials, he decided to run against Lt. Gov. Jim Berry, who had been in office for 20 years.
He ran what he called a plain folks campaign from the back of his battered farm truck. Williams and his wife would park their truck on a main street and spend hours visiting with people, eventually covering most of the state.
Williams and Berry got into a runoff and Williams immediately began telling voters "it's berry canning time."
The next January, sporting red and white cowboy boots and a Stetson hat, Williams presided over the opening session of the state Senate in a building he said he'd been in only once. "I'd only been in the statehouse once before," he said. "Showed it to my boys one day."
Because the lieutenant governor wasn't furnished a car in those days, Williams often hitchhiked to the Capitol. The Legislature finally appropriated $6,000 to buy him a car, and Williams announced he planned to buy a pink Cadillac with a picture of a kicking donkey on the side.
However, he bought a black Ford and gave back half of the money.
Williams organized his own military force while acting as governor during the chief executive's times out of state. But there were no privates or seamen -- just colonels or admirals.
It was fortunate that he never tried to mobilize his militia, but those of us who were honorary officers were ready to heed his call. I might have needed a reminder about whether I was an admiral or a colonel.
One day when Gov. Raymond Gary was out of the state, Williams issued 800 commissions. Gary averaged one commission per day. It wasn't unusual for people Williams met to receive commissions the next time the governor was out of state.
Williams was defeated for re-election by George Nigh of McAlester, who later became governor. The colorful politician ran for state treasurer four years later and won, but lost in the next election to Leo Winters.
In his last years, Williams, who died in 1976 a week before his 84th birthday, boasted of his thriftiness and referred to himself as "stingy."
To prove his point, at age 81, he took a 62-day trip by bus from Oklahoma to Alaska, then to Florida, up to Maine and across the country to San Francisco, spending less than $10 a day on food and lodging.
"The other passengers would flock to the cafes when the bus stopped," he said. "I'd just amble over to the grocery store and get a half-pound of salami, some crackers and a quart of buttermilk.
"I guess my mind doesn't run to luxury."