| Notes |
- King.GEDCOM. Electronic. Date of Import: December13, 2001.
[Bier.FTW]
[Don Maxwell .FTW]
HARRY C. MAXWELL MARRIED MARJORIE. THEY HAD TO SONS, HARRY JR. AND TED.
Obituary of Harry Maxwell Sr.
Southwest Press Clipping Bureau
Kansas City, MO
Topeka, Kansas
Lawton, Okla. Constitution Press
Sept. 14, 1952
Early Day Newspaper
"Feuds Here Recalled"
Editor's Note: Recently an early day Lawton man, Harry Maxwell, son of the late Mr. and Mrs. W. A. Maxwell, prominent residents of early day Lawton, died at Ft. Lauderdale, Fla. Harry worked for a time on an early day Lawton morning paper, the Star, while on the rival morning paper, The News, worked Wesley W. Stout, who later became an editor of the Saturday Evening Post. On learning of Harry's death, Mr. Stout, not retired and doing a column for the Ft. Lauderdale paper, filled his column with reminiscences of his early day with Lawton newspaper experience, which will be of interest to many residents of Lawton. We are indebted to Mrs. Griswold Smith, 1807 Elm, to whom the clipping was sent by a Ft. Lauderdale friend, for copy of Mr. Stout's column.
The Beachcomber
by Wesley W. Stout
Harry Maxwell was dead at his Coral Ridge (Florida) home. The paper said he was industrial relations director for Sun Oil at Philadelphia.
Could this be our Harry Maxwell? He had been a Sun Oil executive, but surely he couldn't have lived here sixteen months unknown to us.
The undertaker could tell us nothing. At the home, the family had just left to accompany the body to Philadelphia. All the neighbors who knew the Maxwell were away, the maid said. There was a friend who was caring for the car, but she could not recall his name.
We were about to leave when we thought to ask if there was a photograph of Mr. Maxwell in the house. There was. It was our Harry!
. . .
Two dollars more a week lured us from Oklahoma City in 1911 to Lawton(Oklahoma) as city editor of the News. A "city editor" in a small town did everything but solicit advertising and run the press.
This raw town of 11,000 had three dailies, two of them morning, an unheard of thing. The city editor of our morning rival was the owner's son. He was an engaging youth of about 19 with no other newspaper experience, while we already had, at 21, filled a variety of jobs. His name was Harry Maxwell.
None of the three papers could afford a line of wire news, so our first act was to rifle the 10 p.m. train from Oklahoma City of the evening papers discarded by passengers. (There was no train butcher.)
Harry caught on quickly. When he joined us at the station, sharing the papers, we took to meeting the train at the Rock Island crossing and gathering up every last paper. The train sometimes was an hour late; then we sat on a pile of cross ties in the dark and waited.
In time, Harry shadowed us to the crossing, so now we traveled to Oklahoma City at our own expense and talked with the State Editor of the Oklahoman. We proposed that he give us rapidly over the phone each night the cream of the state news. Reluctantly, he agreed for old time's sake.
. . .
Harry was beaten and baffled for only a week or so. The lone night hone operator was his girlfriend. She told him we were calling the Oklahoman; he could deduce the rest.
Our rival did a bite of polite blackmail. He called our friend, the State Editor; if the Oklahoman was giving away news, Harry said he would be happy to share it. The agitated State Editor phoned us back. We told him to call it off.
We were official scorer of the Class D Lawton ball club. As such, we traveled to Wichita Falls, Tex., one Sunday. Though less than 50 miles at the plane files, Wichita Falls was a hundred miles by rail and removed from our trade territory. It didn't know that Lawton existed.
. . .
To the telegraph editor of the morning paper, we told the story of our duel with the Lawton Star. Amused, he offered, though he had never seen us before, to share his leased-wire Associated Press report with us nightly. That would risk the paper's A.P. franchise, but the paper was failing he explained, so no one would care.
Now we really had Harry frantic. Having meanwhile "beat his time," as we said then, with the phone girl, he couldn't trace our source. He was working on the manager of the telephone company when the Wichita Falls paper died.
Harry became secretary to a Tulsa congressman, studied law at Georgetown. Twenty years passed. We were on the Saturday Evening Post. One day we met Harry, now with Sun Oil. Thereafter, we saw him often at lunch at Philadelphia's Downtown Club.
. . .
We saw or heard nothing of him after 1942 until Tuesday when we read of his death. For a year and more we both had lived in Ft. Lauderdale, each unaware of the other. In fiction you couldn't get away with a coincidence like this.
Note: One copy of this column to Wallace Perry of Las Cruces, N. M., who was city editor of the afternoon paper.
HARRY C. MAXWELL MARRIED MARJORIE. THEY HAD TO SONS, HARRY JR. AND TED.
Obituary of Harry Maxwell Sr.
Southwest Press Clipping Bureau
Kansas City, MO
Topeka, Kansas
Lawton, Okla. Constitution Press
Sept. 14, 1952
Early Day Newspaper
"Feuds Here Recalled"
Editor's Note: Recently an early day Lawton man, Harry Maxwell, son of the late Mr. and Mrs. W. A. Maxwell, prominent residents of early day Lawton, died at Ft. Lauderdale, Fla. Harry worked for a time on an early day Lawton morning paper, the Star, while on the rival morning paper, The News, worked Wesley W. Stout, who later became an editor of the Saturday Evening Post. On learning of Harry's death, Mr. Stout, not retired and doing a column for the Ft. Lauderdale paper, filled his column with reminiscences of his early day with Lawton newspaper experience, which will be of interest to many residents of Lawton. We are indebted to Mrs. Griswold Smith, 1807 Elm, to whom the clipping was sent by a Ft. Lauderdale friend, for copy of Mr. Stout's column.
The Beachcomber
by Wesley W. Stout
Harry Maxwell was dead at his Coral Ridge (Florida) home. The paper said he was industrial relations director for Sun Oil at Philadelphia.
Could this be our Harry Maxwell? He had been a Sun Oil executive, but surely he couldn't have lived here sixteen months unknown to us.
The undertaker could tell us nothing. At the home, the family had just left to accompany the body to Philadelphia. All the neighbors who knew the Maxwell were away, the maid said. There was a friend who was caring for the car, but she could not recall his name.
We were about to leave when we thought to ask if there was a photograph of Mr. Maxwell in the house. There was. It was our Harry!
. . .
Two dollars more a week lured us from Oklahoma City in 1911 to Lawton(Oklahoma) as city editor of the News. A "city editor" in a small town did everything but solicit advertising and run the press.
This raw town of 11,000 had three dailies, two of them morning, an unheard of thing. The city editor of our morning rival was the owner's son. He was an engaging youth of about 19 with no other newspaper experience, while we already had, at 21, filled a variety of jobs. His name was Harry Maxwell.
None of the three papers could afford a line of wire news, so our first act was to rifle the 10 p.m. train from Oklahoma City of the evening papers discarded by passengers. (There was no train butcher.)
Harry caught on quickly. When he joined us at the station, sharing the papers, we took to meeting the train at the Rock Island crossing and gathering up every last paper. The train sometimes was an hour late; then we sat on a pile of crossties in the dark and waited.
In time, Harry shadowed us to the crossing, so now we traveled to Oklahoma City at our own expense and talked with the State Editor of the Oklahoman. We proposed that he give us rapidly over the phone each night the cream of the state news. Reluctantly, he agreed for old time's sake.
. . .
Harry was beaten and baffled for only a week or so. The lone night hone operator was his girlfriend. She told him we were calling the Oklahoman; he could deduce the rest.
Our rival did a bite of polite blackmail. He called our friend, the State Editor; if the Oklahoman was giving away news, Harry said he would be happy to share it. The agitated State Editor phoned us back. We told him to call it off.
We were official scorer of the Class D Lawton ball club. As such, we traveled to Wichita Falls, Tex., one Sunday. Though less than 50 miles at the plane files, Wichita Falls was a hundred miles by rail and removed from our trade territory. It didn't know that Lawton existed.
. . .
To the telegraph editor of the morning paper, we told the story of our duel with the Lawton Star. Amused, he offered, though he had never seen us before, to share his leased-wire Associated Press report with us nightly. That would risk the paper's A.P. franchise, but the paper was failing he explained, so no one would care.
Now we really had Harry frantic. Having meanwhile "beat his time," as we said then, with the phone girl, he couldn't trace our source. He was working on the manager of the telephone company when the Wichita Falls paper died.
Harry became secretary to a Tulsa congressman, studied law at Georgetown. Twenty years passed. We were on the Saturday Evening Post. One day we met Harry, now with Sun Oil. Thereafter, we saw him often at lunch at Philadelphia's Downtown Club.
. . .
We saw or heard nothing of him after 1942 until Tuesday when we read of his death. For a year and more we both had lived in Ft. Lauderdale, each unaware of the other. In fiction you couldn't get away with a coincidence like this.
Note: One copy of this column to Wallace Perry of Las Cruces, N. M., who was city editor of the afternoon paper.
HARRY C. MAXWELL MARRIED MARJORIE. THEY HAD TO SONS, HARRY JR. AND TED.
Obituary of Harry Maxwell Sr.
Southwest Press Clipping Bureau
Kansas City, MO
Topeka, Kansas
Lawton, Okla. Constitution Press
Sept. 14, 1952
Early Day Newspaper
"Feuds Here Recalled"
Editor's Note: Recently an early day Lawton man, Harry Maxwell, son of the late Mr. and Mrs. W. A. Maxwell, prominent residents of early day Lawton, died at Ft. Lauderdale, Fla. Harry worked for a time on an early day Lawton morning paper, the Star, while on the rival morning paper, The News, worked Wesley W. Stout, who later became an editor of the Saturday Evening Post. On learning of Harry's death, Mr. Stout, not retired and doing a column for the Ft. Lauderdale paper, filled his column with reminiscences of his early day with Lawton newspaper experience, which will be of interest to many residents of Lawton. We are indebted to Mrs. Griswold Smith, 1807 Elm, to whom the clipping was sent by a Ft. Lauderdale friend, for copy of Mr. Stout's column.
The Beachcomber
by Wesley W. Stout
Harry Maxwell was dead at his Coral Ridge (Florida) home. The paper said he was industrial relations director for Sun Oil at Philadelphia.
Could this be our Harry Maxwell? He had been a Sun Oil executive, but surely he couldn't have lived here sixteen months unknown to us.
The undertaker could tell us nothing. At the home, the family had just left to accompany the body to Philadelphia. All the neighbors who knew the Maxwell were away, the maid said. There was a friend who was caring for the car, but she could not recall his name.
We were about to leave when we thought to ask if there was a photograph of Mr. Maxwell in the house. There was. It was our Harry!
. . .
Two dollars more a week lured us from Oklahoma City in 1911 to Lawton(Oklahoma) as city editor of the News. A "city editor" in a small town did everything but solicit advertising and run the press.
This raw town of 11,000 had three dailies, two of them morning, an unheard of thing. The city editor of our morning rival was the owner's son. He was an engaging youth of about 19 with no other newspaper experience, while we already had, at 21, filled a variety of jobs. His name was Harry Maxwell.
None of the three papers could afford a line of wire news, so our first act was to rifle the 10 p.m. train from Oklahoma City of the evening papers discarded by passengers. (There was no train butcher.)
Harry caught on quickly. When he joined us at the station, sharing the papers, we took to meeting the train at the Rock Island crossing and gathering up every last paper. The train sometimes was an hour late; then we sat on a pile of cross ties in the dark and waited.
In time, Harry shadowed us to the crossing, so now we traveled to Oklahoma City at our own expense and talked with the State Editor of the Oklahoman. We proposed that he give us rapidly over the phone each night the cream of the state news. Reluctantly, he agreed for old time's sake.
. . .
Harry was beaten and baffled for only a week or so. The lone night hone operator was his girlfriend. She told him we were calling the Oklahoman; he could deduce the rest.
Our rival did a bite of polite blackmail. He called our friend, the State Editor; if the Oklahoman was giving away news, Harry said he would be happy to share it. The agitated State Editor phoned us back. We told him to call it off.
We were official scorer of the Class D Lawton ball club. As such, we traveled to Wichita Falls, Tex., one Sunday. Though less than 50 miles at the plane files, Wichita Falls was a hundred miles by rail and removed from our trade territory. It didn't know that Lawton existed.
. . .
To the telegraph editor of the morning paper, we told the story of our duel with the Lawton Star. Amused, he offered, though he had never seen us before, to share his leased-wire Associated Press report with us nightly. That would risk the paper's A.P. franchise, but the paper was failing he explained, so no one would care.
Now we really had Harry frantic. Having meanwhile "beat his time," as we said then, with the phone girl, he couldn't trace our source. He was working on the manager of the telephone company when the Wichita Falls paper died.
Harry became secretary to a Tulsa congressman, studied law at Georgetown. Twenty years passed. We were on the Saturday Evening Post. One day we met Harry, now with Sun Oil. Thereafter, we saw him often at lunch at Philadelphia's Downtown Club.
. . .
We saw or heard nothing of him after 1942 until Tuesday when we read of his death. For a year and more we both had lived in Ft. Lauderdale, each unaware of the other. In fiction you couldn't get away with a coincidence like this.
Note: One copy of this column to Wallace Perry of Las Cruces, N. M., who was city editor of the afternoon paper.
HARRY C. MAXWELL MARRIED MARJORIE. THEY HAD TO SONS, HARRY JR. AND TED.
Obituary of Harry Maxwell Sr.
Southwest Press Clipping Bureau
Kansas City, MO
Topeka, Kansas
Lawton, Okla. Constitution Press
Sept. 14, 1952
Early Day Newspaper
"Feuds Here Recalled"
Editor's Note: Recently an early day Lawton man, Harry Maxwell, son of the late Mr. and Mrs. W. A. Maxwell, prominent residents of early day Lawton, died at Ft. Lauderdale, Fla. Harry worked for a time on an early day Lawton morning paper, the Star, while on the rival morning paper, The News, worked Wesley W. Stout, who later became an editor of the Saturday Evening Post. On learning of Harry's death, Mr. Stout, not retired and doing a column for the Ft. Lauderdale paper, filled his column with reminiscences of his early day with Lawton newspaper experience, which will be of interest to many residents of Lawton. We are indebted to Mrs. Griswold Smith, 1807 Elm, to whom the clipping was sent by a Ft. Lauderdale friend, for copy of Mr. Stout's column.
The Beachcomber
by Wesley W. Stout
Harry Maxwell was dead at his Coral Ridge (Florida) home. The paper said he was industrial relations director for Sun Oil at Philadelphia.
Could this be our Harry Maxwell? He had been a Sun Oil executive, but surely he couldn't have lived here sixteen months unknown to us.
The undertaker could tell us nothing. At the home, the family had just left to accompany the body to Philadelphia. All the neighbors who knew the Maxwell were away, the maid said. There was a friend who was caring for the car, but she could not recall his name.
We were about to leave when we thought to ask if there was a photograph of Mr. Maxwell in the house. There was. It was our Harry!
. . .
Two dollars more a week lured us from Oklahoma City in 1911 to Lawton(Oklahoma) as city editor of the News. A "city editor" in a small town did everything but solicit advertising and run the press.
This raw town of 11,000 had three dailies, two of them morning, an unheard of thing. The city editor of our morning rival was the owner's son. He was an engaging youth of about 19 with no other newspaper experience, while we already had, at 21, filled a variety of jobs. His name was Harry Maxwell.
None of the three papers could afford a line of wire news, so our first act was to rifle the 10 p.m. train from Oklahoma City of the evening papers discarded by passengers. (There was no train butcher.)
Harry caught on quickly. When he joined us at the station, sharing the papers, we took to meeting the train at the Rock Island crossing and gathering up every last paper. The train sometimes was an hour late; then we sat on a pile of crossties in the dark and waited.
In time, Harry shadowed us to the crossing, so now we traveled to Oklahoma City at our own expense and talked with the State Editor of the Oklahoman. We proposed that he give us rapidly over the phone each night the cream of the state news. Reluctantly, he agreed for old time's sake.
. . .
Harry was beaten and baffled for only a week or so. The lone night hone operator was his girlfriend. She told him we were calling the Oklahoman; he could deduce the rest.
Our rival did a bite of polite blackmail. He called our friend, the State Editor; if the Oklahoman was giving away news, Harry said he would be happy to share it. The agitated State Editor phoned us back. We told him to call it off.
We were official scorer of the Class D Lawton ball club. As such, we traveled to Wichita Falls, Tex., one Sunday. Though less than 50 miles at the plane files, Wichita Falls was a hundred miles by rail and removed from our trade territory. It didn't know that Lawton existed.
. . .
To the telegraph editor of the morning paper, we told the story of our duel with the Lawton Star. Amused, he offered, though he had never seen us before, to share his leased-wire Associated Press report with us nightly. That would risk the paper's A.P. franchise, but the paper was failing he explained, so no one would care.
Now we really had Harry frantic. Having meanwhile "beat his time," as we said then, with the phone girl, he couldn't trace our source. He was working on the manager of the telephone company when the Wichita Falls paper died.
Harry became secretary to a Tulsa congressman, studied law at Georgetown. Twenty years passed. We were on the Saturday Evening Post. One day we met Harry, now with Sun Oil. Thereafter, we saw him often at lunch at Philadelphia's Downtown Club.
. . .
We saw or heard nothing of him after 1942 until Tuesday when we read of his death. For a year and more we both had lived in Ft. Lauderdale, each unaware of the other. In fiction you couldn't get away with a coincidence like this.
Note: One copy of this column to Wallace Perry of Las Cruces, N. M., who was city editor of the afternoon paper.
PLEASE CONTACT ME DIRECTLY ,so i can add your references to my file!
Don Maxwell M.D.
18700 Wolf Creek Dr.
Edmond, Okla. 73003
dmaxwelljr@hotmail.com
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1892 - 1952 (60 years)
[1, 2, 3] 
