About
COMPANY FOUNDER, LEON DAVIS
“On his deathbed a few days before he died, I showed him a log of a productive well we had just drilled. He asked, ‘Is it oil?’ I replied, ‘All oil.’ His eyes twinkled; he smiled—upbeat to the last breath.” This is a sentence from a comprehensive tribute to Leon Davis delivered by his son, Ross Davis, at his father’s funeral in 2013. The tribute is below in its entirety.
Leon Davis joined the Army Air Corps in 1940 as a second lieutenant. >>>
As I sit here in the waiting room of the Intensive Care Unit of St. Luke’s Hospital, I am filled with anxious dread. I have known that this day would come, and I have known that my father’s life could not be extended too far beyond the age of ninety-four. In recent weeks, my father’s health began to decline. Amazingly spry at the age of ninety-three, he was still driving himself to work, playing tennis, and attending the symphony.
LEON DAVIS: ENTERED HIS EARTHLY LIFE ON NOVEMBER 15, 1918; ENTERED HIS FATHER’S HOUSE ON NOVEMBER 21, 2013.
Now just fourteen days before his ninety-fifth birthday, he suffered a grand mal seizure, which left him in a somnambulant state—unresponsive, and motionless. In the last week, grief-filled moments, along with the realization that the inexorable sweep of time had taken its toll, did not make it any easier to accept what was the end of a storied and beautiful life. Dad was a member of the greatest generation and, as one of my friends put it, a “true American hero.”
Family, above all else, was primary to Dad. While we do not know for sure, we believe that this unselfish commitment to family came from his father and mother, who settled in Arkansas City, Kansas, after emigrating from Szinever, Hungary. Szinever, now in Ukraine, was a small village in the Carpathian Mountains along the Tyza River, about fifty miles or so from the Polish border, just north of the city of Huszt. The population, slightly less than two thousand, was made up of Jews and Greek Catholics of Russian, German, and Polish origin. The family’s roots were originally from the Galicia region of Poland.
They emigrated to Austria-Hungary sometime after 1650, when the Tartars invaded Poland and killed over five hundred thousand Jews, creating a mass migration to Austria-Hungary.
Born in 1889 of a prominent family in the small shtetl, Herman, Dad’s father, was one of eleven offspring whose parents were David Davidovits of Szinever and Alte-Rissa Wizel of Sighet, Romania. David, in turn, was the son of Moshe Laib Davidovits of Szinever, who lived to the age of 103 and had four wives and eighteen children. David, a Hasidic Jew, was six feet four inches in stature, with a long, flowing gray beard and a stern countenance. Alte-Rissa was a quiet, short woman. David was a merchant and farmer, owning a small store very near the synagogue.
As the story goes, Herman, living in Vienna, Austria, at the age of eighteen, traded his pocket watch for passage to this country (from a person who was unable to use the ticket) and landed in Philadelphia in 1908. Upon landing in Philadelphia, my father told me that Herman changed his last name from Davidovits to Davis while standing in line to enlist in the army. He spoke only Yiddish and wanted to have an easy-to-pronounce English name. He was stationed in Fort Riley, Kansas, and after a short three-year stint in the army, he began his career in the piece goods business, traveling by horse and buggy from farm to farm and selling bolts of cloths and other wares. Later he became the owner of a men’s clothing store, living in Kansas City, Winfield, and eventually and primarily in Arkansas City, Kansas. The store did well, selling to local townspeople as well as to American Indians of the nearby Osage tribe.
Oil was found on the Indian reservation in Osage County by Frank Phillips, J. Paul Getty, Harry Sinclair, and others, leading to the development of the three hundred million-barrel Burbank Field in the early 1920s. As the Osage tribe received royalties for this oil, they became especially good customers. This connection to oil and American Indians led Herman to invest $10,000 in his first oil venture in 1924 in Osage County, Oklahoma. The well was dry, but Herman was determined to enter the industry because he figured that if one could lose money that fast, then with hard work and luck, one could make it that fast. Ultimately, he concentrated on owning minerals and royalties. He used his connection with farmers in the area to buy, trade, and own mineral rights, primarily in Oklahoma and Kansas. He bought farms, then resold them, retaining half of the minerals. Money from oil interests from a Lucien Field discovery in Noble County, Oklahoma, allowed the family to survive the Great Depression in relative comfort.
After establishing his business, Herman returned to Europe to marry his childhood sweetheart. On returning, he discovered that she had already married, but he became acquainted with Miriam Kahn while in his hometown of Szinever. Within two weeks the couple married and returned to Arkansas City. They were determined to bring their relatives to America. Anxious to escape starvation and the pogroms of Eastern Europe in the aftermath of WWI, Herman’s brothers, Zisa and Bernard, who with Herman formed the original Davis Bros. clothing stores, were persuaded to come—as well as all of Miriam’s family. All were given jobs in that small country store, Davis Mercantile Co., until they could speak the language and support themselves. Herman, a sweet man like Dad, was the designated peacekeeper within the family, often arbitrating disputes between Uncle Z and Uncle B, who had difficult personalities.
In all, due to Herman and Miriam’s efforts, over 80 relatives were saved from certain death in the concentration camps of occupied Europe. Of the Davidovits clan, over 207 who chose to remain were exterminated in Auschwitz and other camps. Their names have been memorialized on the Wall of Remembrance at the Holocaust Museum Houston. Elie Wiesel, famous author and iconic figure of the Holocaust, is Dad’s distant cousin, related to Alte-Rissa, who was a Wiesel.
It is through this prism that Dad developed his commitment to family that defined virtually every aspect of his life.
Dad was the first Jew born in Arkansas City, Kansas, on November 15, 1918, and he was named after Herman’s brother Eliezer. Dad was on the high school tennis team and he was a cheerleader and a debater in standard oration. He won the Missouri Valley speech contest with a speech entitled “The Power of Persuasion” and was a quarterfinalist in a national debate tournament. Dad attended the University of Oklahoma in 1936, majoring in arts and sciences and economics. He operated a sandwich stand to make extra money while at school and was president of Phi Beta Delta (later ZBT) and the Sooner Political Party. Dad was an activist of sorts in college and organized a taxi-cab strike that prevented students from attending classes on time. An angry call was placed by the president of the university to his brother, Elliott, who was also attending OU at the time, to implore Leon to terminate the strike lest he be expelled. Dad got the message and stopped.
LEON DAVIS: ENTERED HIS EARTHLY LIFE ON NOVEMBER 15, 1918; ENTERED HIS FATHER’S HOUSE ON NOVEMBER 21, 2013.
Now just fourteen days before his ninety-fifth birthday, he suffered a grand mal seizure, which left him in a somnambulant state—unresponsive, and motionless. In the last week, grief-filled moments, along with the realization that the inexorable sweep of time had taken its toll, did not make it any easier to accept what was the end of a storied and beautiful life. Dad was a member of the greatest generation and, as one of my friends put it, a “true American hero.”
Family, above all else, was primary to Dad. While we do not know for sure, we believe that this unselfish commitment to family came from his father and mother, who settled in Arkansas City, Kansas, after emigrating from Szinever, Hungary. Szinever, now in Ukraine, was a small village in the Carpathian Mountains along the Tyza River, about fifty miles or so from the Polish border, just north of the city of Huszt. The population, slightly less than two thousand, was made up of Jews and Greek Catholics of Russian, German, and Polish origin. The family’s roots were originally from the Galicia region of Poland.
They emigrated to Austria-Hungary sometime after 1650, when the Tartars invaded Poland and killed over five hundred thousand Jews, creating a mass migration to Austria-Hungary.
Born in 1889 of a prominent family in the small shtetl, Herman, Dad’s father, was one of eleven offspring whose parents were David Davidovits of Szinever and Alte-Rissa Wizel of Sighet, Romania. David, in turn, was the son of Moshe Laib Davidovits of Szinever, who lived to the age of 103 and had four wives and eighteen children. David, a Hasidic Jew, was six feet four inches in stature, with a long, flowing gray beard and a stern countenance. Alte-Rissa was a quiet, short woman. David was a merchant and farmer, owning a small store very near the synagogue.
As the story goes, Herman, living in Vienna, Austria, at the age of eighteen, traded his pocket watch for passage to this country (from a person who was unable to use the ticket) and landed in Philadelphia in 1908. Upon landing in Philadelphia, my father told me that Herman changed his last name from Davidovits to Davis while standing in line to enlist in the army. He spoke only Yiddish and wanted to have an easy-to-pronounce English name. He was stationed in Fort Riley, Kansas, and after a short three-year stint in the army, he began his career in the piece goods business, traveling by horse and buggy from farm to farm and selling bolts of cloths and other wares. Later he became the owner of a men’s clothing store, living in Kansas City, Winfield, and eventually and primarily in Arkansas City, Kansas. The store did well, selling to local townspeople as well as to American Indians of the nearby Osage tribe.
Oil was found on the Indian reservation in Osage County by Frank Phillips, J. Paul Getty, Harry Sinclair, and others, leading to the development of the three hundred million-barrel Burbank Field in the early 1920s. As the Osage tribe received royalties for this oil, they became especially good customers. This connection to oil and American Indians led Herman to invest $10,000 in his first oil venture in 1924 in Osage County, Oklahoma. The well was dry, but Herman was determined to enter the industry because he figured that if one could lose money that fast, then with hard work and luck, one could make it that fast. Ultimately, he concentrated on owning minerals and royalties. He used his connection with farmers in the area to buy, trade, and own mineral rights, primarily in Oklahoma and Kansas. He bought farms, then resold them, retaining half of the minerals. Money from oil interests from a Lucien Field discovery in Noble County, Oklahoma, allowed the family to survive the Great Depression in relative comfort.
After establishing his business, Herman returned to Europe to marry his childhood sweetheart. On returning, he discovered that she had already married, but he became acquainted with Miriam Kahn while in his hometown of Szinever. Within two weeks the couple married and returned to Arkansas City. They were determined to bring their relatives to America. Anxious to escape starvation and the pogroms of Eastern Europe in the aftermath of WWI, Herman’s brothers, Zisa and Bernard, who with Herman formed the original Davis Bros. clothing stores, were persuaded to come—as well as all of Miriam’s family. All were given jobs in that small country store, Davis Mercantile Co., until they could speak the language and support themselves. Herman, a sweet man like Dad, was the designated peacekeeper within the family, often arbitrating disputes between Uncle Z and Uncle B, who had difficult personalities.
In all, due to Herman and Miriam’s efforts, over 80 relatives were saved from certain death in the concentration camps of occupied Europe. Of the Davidovits clan, over 207 who chose to remain were exterminated in Auschwitz and other camps. Their names have been memorialized on the Wall of Remembrance at the Holocaust Museum Houston. Elie Wiesel, famous author and iconic figure of the Holocaust, is Dad’s distant cousin, related to Alte-Rissa, who was a Wiesel.
It is through this prism that Dad developed his commitment to family that defined virtually every aspect of his life.
Dad was the first Jew born in Arkansas City, Kansas, on November 15, 1918, and he was named after Herman’s brother Eliezer. Dad was on the high school tennis team and he was a cheerleader and a debater in standard oration. He won the Missouri Valley speech contest with a speech entitled “The Power of Persuasion” and was a quarterfinalist in a national debate tournament. Dad attended the University of Oklahoma in 1936, majoring in arts and sciences and economics. He operated a sandwich stand to make extra money while at school and was president of Phi Beta Delta (later ZBT) and the Sooner Political Party. Dad was an activist of sorts in college and organized a taxi-cab strike that prevented students from attending classes on time. An angry call was placed by the president of the university to his brother, Elliott, who was also attending OU at the time, to implore Leon to terminate the strike lest he be expelled. Dad got the message and stopped.
EARLY IN HIS CAREER, IN HIS EARLY THIRTIES, LEON DAVIS MET ELENE MEYER, MY MOTHER, WHILE VISITING NEW YORK CITY, WHERE SHE WORKED AT MOSLER SAFE COMPANY AS A SECRETARY.
Prior to his visit, Dad received a list of eligible Jewish women from a friend of his, Edger Oppenheimer, of Oklahoma City. Mother was the second number Dad called on the list, with the first not answering his phone call. After several dates in New York, Dad visited Elene in Houston, where her mother lived, on July 4, 1952. Myrtle Meyer, Elene’s mother, knew Dad’s first cousin, the jeweler, who lived in Houston and who was also named Leon Davis. The two spent the day in Galveston, and Dad proposed shortly thereafter. On July 29, 1952, they were married in Houston at Elene’s sister’s house. After a short honeymoon in Colorado, the two returned to Tulsa, Oklahoma, buying a 2,600-square-foot home, the $5,000 down payment provided in the form of a loan from Myrtle to my father. After having four children—Lynn, Lance, Ross and Evan—and at my mother’s strong urging, the family moved to Houston to be close to Elene’s mother and to set an independent course for the family.
While some believe that my mother and father were opposites, I like to believe they were, in fact, complementary—my father, calm, deferential, wise; my mother, fiery, opinionated, brilliant.
Both believed in sacrifice for their children and lived according to the highest ethical and moral standards. After sixty years of marriage, the two became closer and closer. Near the end, my father could not wait for dinner to be over so that he could be with his bride and hold her hand. My father and mother were unfailingly devoted and loving toward one another, and they truly appreciated each other’s good qualities.
Growing up, Dad played tennis with all four children every weekend in Tulsa. We lived near Zinc Park, and in the summertime we played until evening at the recreation center in the park across the street and down a large hill from our house. At dinnertime, my father would walk onto the porch and whistle a tune for us to come home. We came running when we heard that high-pitched, melodious whistle, excited to jump into my father’s outreached arms. Sometimes, if we were lucky, we were treated to popcorn while watching movies. Dad made it the old-fashioned way, roasted in a big pot on a gas burner on a stove top. I still remember the loud, grinding sound as he moved the pot back and forth across the burner top in order to prevent the popcorn from burning.
We were a tennis family, and we traveled on weekends to tennis tournaments all over the state of Oklahoma and in my sister’s case, all over the country. We loaded the lawn chairs and coolers into the family station wagon, visiting every little town, often with American Indian-sounding names, on the tennis circuit. My parents watched from behind screened cement courts, counseling us on our play after every match. When my parents built the house in Houston, Dad made sure tennis courts were nearby. Dad was one of the founding members of the Houston Racquet Club, and in his seventies he organized a group of players that played every Saturday, known around the club as “Leon’s Bunch.”
When we were not playing tennis and since we were not members of any private country clubs, Dad arranged with the owner of the Trade Winds Motel for the family to swim at the hotel pool on weekends. The highlight was a visit to the hotel ice machine at the end of each outing.
In Houston, on my birthday in my early teens, my father indulged me by taking me red snapper fishing in the Gulf of Mexico—driving to Freeport, fishing, then back to Houston in less than twenty-four hours, an exhausting trip. I still remember the diesel fumes on the party boat and the cold, fresh fried chicken my mother made for my brother, Dad, and me to eat during brief respites from fishing. It was always interesting to watch my dad, dressed in typical fishing garb—shorts, cap, and fishing knife strapped to his belt—interact with ease with the ragtag group of fishermen, made up of construction workers, retirees, and other assorted types.
After the war, in 1945, Leon and his brother, Elliott, formed Davis Bros. Leon bought half of Elliott’s share of assets that he personally had accumulated. Dad rented an upstairs efficiency apartment in a private home, and he drew $200 a month salary while Elliott drew $300 a month because he was married. From a small, one-room office—turn right and you encountered a house of ill repute; turn left and you arrived at the office of Davis Bros.—the two conducted business and shared a partners desk. From an ad in the newspaper, they purchased a hardware store. Later they formed Davis Sporting Goods in Tulsa, owning four stores in total. Dad ran the stores and the real estate while Elliot, the first ever geologist hired by Shamrock Oil Company, ran the oil effort.
I remember that Dad worked six and one-half days a week, but on Sunday mornings he used to take me to the local Jewish deli to buy bagels, cow tongue, borscht, and really delicious kosher dill pickles. At the sporting goods store, I was put to work, busily shining bicycles in the toy department. I was amused to find out later that Dad traveled the country as a toy buyer for the stores. On Thanksgiving, we were able to watch the Thanksgiving Day Parade on the second-floor balcony of the store on Main Street in downtown Tulsa. Sometimes, we got to ride on the floats. My cousin Tim recalls being placed on an elephant procured by Dad for the annual Davis Sporting Goods circus-day sale.
In the oil area, in the 1950s, Davis Bros. was the most active independent in Kansas. A low point was a string of thirty-five straight dry holes, and yet they persevered. Following in their father’s footsteps, Elliott and Dad acquired large mineral packages primarily from insurance companies. They acquired in excess of five hundred thousand gross acres of minerals (over one hundred thousand net) in twenty-two states. These acquisitions represented the entire mineral assets of the Alliance Life Insurance Company, Peoria, Illinois; the Central Standard Life Insurance Company, Chicago, Illinois; the Commerce Trust Bank, Kansas City, Missouri; the Wilbe Lumber Company, Des Moines, Iowa; and the interests of numerous individuals and states. These mineral interests are primarily concentrated in the Anadarko and Arkoma Basins in Oklahoma, the Delaware Basin of Texas and New Mexico, and the Salt Basin and Smackover Provinces of Mississippi.
The largest major program conceived and implemented by Davis Bros. in the 1970s was its participation in the efforts of Davis McCoy, Inc. This company was organized by Davis Bros. to conduct an extensive exploration program on behalf of Public Service Company of Oklahoma and Gulf States Utilities of Beaumont, Texas. This program acquired in excess of four hundred thousand net acres of leases. This program led to the discovery of the giant one hundred million-barrel Chunchula Field, in Mobile County, Alabama, and the Waveland Field in Hancock County, Mississippi, among others.
In the 1980s, Davis Bros. found the northern extension of the Alabama Ferry Field in Leon County, Texas. It was the largest Cretaceous-aged discovery of its kind since the Giant Fairway Field found in 1960.
In 1995, Davis Bros. consummated an exploration agreement among the Osage Indian tribe of Oklahoma, Davis Bros., and Chevron. The agreement, very historic in nature, was the first major exploration agreement signed by the Osage Nation since 1916 and covered over four hundred thousand acres.
The Lucky Leon Field was discovered in 2001 by Davis Bros. The discovery well contained over three hundred net feet of pay at a well depth of eight thousand feet. It was the largest discovery in the nonpressured Yegua in the last thirty years in southeast Texas. This field was named after Dad and was a constant source of delight and pleasure to him. Printed on a placard affixed to his office door were the words “Lucky Leon.”
In other fields of endeavors, Dad was one of the pioneers in the computer industry and operated one of the first service bureaus for mainframe computers. Needing a large mainframe computer for the retail sporting goods business, his company purchased a large mainframe computer and obtained other customers to utilize the excess capacity. This company was later sold may times over, with the family ultimately owning a large block of GE shares. In 1958 Dad and Elliott formed the first privately held Small Business Investment Company (SBIC) in the country and the first in the state of Oklahoma; it was called Alliance Business Investment Company. They made investments in pipelines, drilling rigs, publishing, compressors, specialty chemicals, logging for oil and gas, manufacturing, building materials, and many others.
EARLY IN HIS CAREER, IN HIS EARLY THIRTIES, LEON DAVIS MET ELENE MEYER, MY MOTHER, WHILE VISITING NEW YORK CITY, WHERE SHE WORKED AT MOSLER SAFE COMPANY AS A SECRETARY.
Prior to his visit, Dad received a list of eligible Jewish women from a friend of his, Edger Oppenheimer, of Oklahoma City. Mother was the second number Dad called on the list, with the first not answering his phone call. After several dates in New York, Dad visited Elene in Houston, where her mother lived, on July 4, 1952. Myrtle Meyer, Elene’s mother, knew Dad’s first cousin, the jeweler, who lived in Houston and who was also named Leon Davis. The two spent the day in Galveston, and Dad proposed shortly thereafter. On July 29, 1952, they were married in Houston at Elene’s sister’s house. After a short honeymoon in Colorado, the two returned to Tulsa, Oklahoma, buying a 2,600-square-foot home, the $5,000 down payment provided in the form of a loan from Myrtle to my father. After having four children—Lynn, Lance, Ross and Evan—and at my mother’s strong urging, the family moved to Houston to be close to Elene’s mother and to set an independent course for the family.
While some believe that my mother and father were opposites, I like to believe they were, in fact, complementary—my father, calm, deferential, wise; my mother, fiery, opinionated, brilliant.
Both believed in sacrifice for their children and lived according to the highest ethical and moral standards. After sixty years of marriage, the two became closer and closer. Near the end, my father could not wait for dinner to be over so that he could be with his bride and hold her hand. My father and mother were unfailingly devoted and loving toward one another, and they truly appreciated each other’s good qualities.
Growing up, Dad played tennis with all four children every weekend in Tulsa. We lived near Zinc Park, and in the summertime we played until evening at the recreation center in the park across the street and down a large hill from our house. At dinnertime, my father would walk onto the porch and whistle a tune for us to come home. We came running when we heard that high-pitched, melodious whistle, excited to jump into my father’s outreached arms. Sometimes, if we were lucky, we were treated to popcorn while watching movies. Dad made it the old-fashioned way, roasted in a big pot on a gas burner on a stove top. I still remember the loud, grinding sound as he moved the pot back and forth across the burner top in order to prevent the popcorn from burning.
We were a tennis family, and we traveled on weekends to tennis tournaments all over the state of Oklahoma and in my sister’s case, all over the country. We loaded the lawn chairs and coolers into the family station wagon, visiting every little town, often with American Indian-sounding names, on the tennis circuit. My parents watched from behind screened cement courts, counseling us on our play after every match. When my parents built the house in Houston, Dad made sure tennis courts were nearby. Dad was one of the founding members of the Houston Racquet Club, and in his seventies he organized a group of players that played every Saturday, known around the club as “Leon’s Bunch.”
When we were not playing tennis and since we were not members of any private country clubs, Dad arranged with the owner of the Trade Winds Motel for the family to swim at the hotel pool on weekends. The highlight was a visit to the hotel ice machine at the end of each outing.
In Houston, on my birthday in my early teens, my father indulged me by taking me red snapper fishing in the Gulf of Mexico—driving to Freeport, fishing, then back to Houston in less than twenty-four hours, an exhausting trip. I still remember the diesel fumes on the party boat and the cold, fresh fried chicken my mother made for my brother, Dad, and me to eat during brief respites from fishing. It was always interesting to watch my dad, dressed in typical fishing garb—shorts, cap, and fishing knife strapped to his belt—interact with ease with the ragtag group of fishermen, made up of construction workers, retirees, and other assorted types.
After the war, in 1945, Leon and his brother, Elliott, formed Davis Bros. Leon bought half of Elliott’s share of assets that he personally had accumulated. Dad rented an upstairs efficiency apartment in a private home, and he drew $200 a month salary while Elliott drew $300 a month because he was married. From a small, one-room office—turn right and you encountered a house of ill repute; turn left and you arrived at the office of Davis Bros.—the two conducted business and shared a partners desk. From an ad in the newspaper, they purchased a hardware store. Later they formed Davis Sporting Goods in Tulsa, owning four stores in total. Dad ran the stores and the real estate while Elliot, the first ever geologist hired by Shamrock Oil Company, ran the oil effort.
I remember that Dad worked six and one-half days a week, but on Sunday mornings he used to take me to the local Jewish deli to buy bagels, cow tongue, borscht, and really delicious kosher dill pickles. At the sporting goods store, I was put to work, busily shining bicycles in the toy department. I was amused to find out later that Dad traveled the country as a toy buyer for the stores. On Thanksgiving, we were able to watch the Thanksgiving Day Parade on the second-floor balcony of the store on Main Street in downtown Tulsa. Sometimes, we got to ride on the floats. My cousin Tim recalls being placed on an elephant procured by Dad for the annual Davis Sporting Goods circus-day sale.
In the oil area, in the 1950s, Davis Bros. was the most active independent in Kansas. A low point was a string of thirty-five straight dry holes, and yet they persevered. Following in their father’s footsteps, Elliott and Dad acquired large mineral packages primarily from insurance companies. They acquired in excess of five hundred thousand gross acres of minerals (over one hundred thousand net) in twenty-two states. These acquisitions represented the entire mineral assets of the Alliance Life Insurance Company, Peoria, Illinois; the Central Standard Life Insurance Company, Chicago, Illinois; the Commerce Trust Bank, Kansas City, Missouri; the Wilbe Lumber Company, Des Moines, Iowa; and the interests of numerous individuals and states. These mineral interests are primarily concentrated in the Anadarko and Arkoma Basins in Oklahoma, the Delaware Basin of Texas and New Mexico, and the Salt Basin and Smackover Provinces of Mississippi.
The largest major program conceived and implemented by Davis Bros. in the 1970s was its participation in the efforts of Davis McCoy, Inc. This company was organized by Davis Bros. to conduct an extensive exploration program on behalf of Public Service Company of Oklahoma and Gulf States Utilities of Beaumont, Texas. This program acquired in excess of four hundred thousand net acres of leases. This program led to the discovery of the giant one hundred million-barrel Chunchula Field, in Mobile County, Alabama, and the Waveland Field in Hancock County, Mississippi, among others.
In the 1980s, Davis Bros. found the northern extension of the Alabama Ferry Field in Leon County, Texas. It was the largest Cretaceous-aged discovery of its kind since the Giant Fairway Field found in 1960.
In 1995, Davis Bros. consummated an exploration agreement among the Osage Indian tribe of Oklahoma, Davis Bros., and Chevron. The agreement, very historic in nature, was the first major exploration agreement signed by the Osage Nation since 1916 and covered over four hundred thousand acres.
The Lucky Leon Field was discovered in 2001 by Davis Bros. The discovery well contained over three hundred net feet of pay at a well depth of eight thousand feet. It was the largest discovery in the nonpressured Yegua in the last thirty years in southeast Texas. This field was named after Dad and was a constant source of delight and pleasure to him. Printed on a placard affixed to his office door were the words “Lucky Leon.”
In other fields of endeavors, Dad was one of the pioneers in the computer industry and operated one of the first service bureaus for mainframe computers. Needing a large mainframe computer for the retail sporting goods business, his company purchased a large mainframe computer and obtained other customers to utilize the excess capacity. This company was later sold may times over, with the family ultimately owning a large block of GE shares. In 1958 Dad and Elliott formed the first privately held Small Business Investment Company (SBIC) in the country and the first in the state of Oklahoma; it was called Alliance Business Investment Company. They made investments in pipelines, drilling rigs, publishing, compressors, specialty chemicals, logging for oil and gas, manufacturing, building materials, and many others.
IN ADDITION TO THESE ACTIVITIES, DAD WAS VICE PRESIDENT AND CHAIRMAN OF THE BOYS CLUB OF THE SALVATION ARMY OF TULSA, PRESIDENT OF B’NAI B’RITH, PRESIDENT OF KIWANIS INTERNATIONAL, AND LEADER OF THE UNITED JEWISH APPEAL FUND DRIVE IN TULSA IN 1968.
In Houston he was a board member of Congregation Beth Israel and Family Service Centers. He also served on the Chancellor’s Council of MD Anderson Cancer Center. Dad was on the board of the U.S. Marshals Museum in Fort Smith, Arkansas.
While being recognized for his broad and extensive legacy of achievement, my dad was loved and admired most for his beautiful spirit and demeanor. He was selfless and without affectation. He was gentle, warm, and good natured, and he never uttered a negative comment about anyone. He made up jokes continuously to make people laugh. He gave all the female employees at the office roses from my mother’s garden every week. From my perspective, I was in awe of my dad’s wisdom, born from his life experiences, and I marveled at his enduring and unflappable optimism. Every faith-shattering dry hole or disappointing experience was followed by an encouraging word or a thoughtful piece of advice.
“THIS IS MY FATHER’S GIFT TO YOU ALL. MAY HIS SOUL REST IN PEACE, AND LET ALL THOSE WHO KNEW HIM BE BLESSED WITH ALL THAT IS GOOD IN THE WORLD.”
— Ross M. Davis, December 2, 2013
“THIS IS MY FATHER’S GIFT TO YOU ALL. MAY HIS SOUL REST IN PEACE, AND LET ALL THOSE WHO KNEW HIM BE BLESSED WITH ALL THAT IS GOOD IN THE WORLD.” — Ross M. Davis, December 2, 2013
IN ADDITION TO THESE ACTIVITIES, DAD WAS VICE PRESIDENT AND CHAIRMAN OF THE BOYS CLUB OF THE SALVATION ARMY OF TULSA, PRESIDENT OF B’NAI B’RITH, PRESIDENT OF KIWANIS INTERNATIONAL, AND LEADER OF THE UNITED JEWISH APPEAL FUND DRIVE IN TULSA IN 1968.
In Houston he was a board member of Congregation Beth Israel and Family Service Centers. He also served on the Chancellor’s Council of MD Anderson Cancer Center. Dad was on the board of the U.S. Marshals Museum in Fort Smith, Arkansas.
While being recognized for his broad and extensive legacy of achievement, my dad was loved and admired most for his beautiful spirit and demeanor. He was selfless and without affectation. He was gentle, warm, and good natured, and he never uttered a negative comment about anyone. He made up jokes continuously to make people laugh. He gave all the female employees at the office roses from my mother’s garden every week. From my perspective, I was in awe of my dad’s wisdom, born from his life experiences, and I marveled at his enduring and unflappable optimism. Every faith-shattering dry hole or disappointing experience was followed by an encouraging word or a thoughtful piece of advice.
Successful in Real Estate, Oil & Gas
and Venture Capital since 1945.