Free The Bootlegger’s Legacy by Ted Clifton Page A

parked at the Lincoln didn’t dent his pride and joy. Entering the Lincoln, he headed toward the bar. While Oklahoma was dry and selling liquor was illegal, the bar at the Lincoln couldn’t have been more out in the open. It always amazed Pat that there wasn’t more scandal about this than there was. Cops, politicians, and rich businessmen—especially the oil industry tycoons—openly flouted the law without suffering any consequences.
    There were probably more liquor-selling clubs in Oklahoma City per capita than in Vegas or New York City. The newspaper people didn’t care and never reported on this double standard. The bulk of the population was religious, with a strong belief that alcohol was evil and ruined the lives of good people. Many of them were shocked when
Look Magazine
listed the twenty-four worst cities in the nation for “vice and sin” and included Oklahoma City on the list. It was as if two entirely separate worlds existed in the same place, ignoring one another.
    He immediately spotted Sally. My, oh my, that was one good lookin’ woman. As he got closer, she turned and gave him a smile that sent chills down his old body. Sally had only been in the city a short while when Pat had met her at this bar. She was a knockout. One night they started talking and she told him that she had come to OKC to have some fun. Said she was working at the John A. Brown’s basement restaurant while she looked for something better. Pat was not real sure if he was being conned or not—she had all of the appearance of a hustler looking to have a good time with wealthy gentlemen. In their first chat Pat had told her he was married, but did a lot of business in the clubs and was usually alone. That first night they had talked for hours, and Pat began to realize he was not only attracted to her beauty, he actually liked her.
    After that they’d met a few more times and always seemed to enjoy each other’s company. On their third “date,” Pat had offered Sally some money. Well, all hell broke loose. “What do you think I am—some kind of whore? Listen you dumb son-of-a-bitch, I don’t want your money and I don’t want your company.” She had stomped off to the ladies room, leaving Pat embarrassed and humiliated. He’d figured that was that, and that he wouldn’t see her again given that he’d been so vile. But after about fifteen minutes she’d returned to the booth where Pat was soothing his wounds. After some time she said she was sorry for her outburst and began to be friendlier. Pat was confused. He’d understood her earlier anger. Now he didn’t know what was happening at all. Sally said, “Look, Pat, I care about you a lot. I know you’re married and I don’t expect this to be anything but two people enjoying each other’s company and having some fun. I also know you think you’re too old for me and the only reason I go out with you is money—well, that’s not true. I like you, okay? I enjoy going out—and it makes it a lot easier for me if you’re buying—is that so horrible? I’m not taking money from you—that would make me something I’m not. I know this is a fling and it won’t last, but I say, hey, let’s enjoy it while we can.” Pat thought,
wow what a woman
. “And Pat, I want to make it clear I won’t take money from you—but dinners and drinks are just fine, and an occasional gift wouldn’t be frowned upon.” The rules of the game had been laid out. The only remaining question was whether he wanted to play—he did.
    After that, Pat had rented an apartment and Sally moved in. He bought her a car, and he bought her clothes and jewelry—but she kept her job and didn’t take money from him. This logic worked for Sally and Pat never complained.
    Pat never took Sally for granted. He knew she had options and he always tried to treat her like a lady. There were times when Sally could make that difficult, but they quickly passed. She was funny and he loved being with her. For an