By 1935 he had saved up $1500.00 and approached Grady Cantrell, one of his fellow workers, about purchasing a work over rig and going into business for themselves. Grady was skeptical about the success of such a venture and turned him down. After many attempts to obtain a partner, a fellow worker by the name of Scott put up a like amount of money and they made a down payment on a used rig with the balance due in twelve months. From that humble beginning had come Newton Properties which consisted of Newton Drilling, Newton Oil, Newton Real Estate, and Kahn Trusts. He bought Scott's interest from him when the first rig was paid for. He carried a thousand-dollar bill and a five hundred-dollar bill in his left front pocket until he died. He said that if all else failed, he could start over, he still had his original investment. His estate was worth several million dollars when he died.

The first trip I made for Newton Properties was to Many, in west central Louisiana, where the company was involved in a drilling and oil production operation. I flew Bernard (Bunny) Kahn, Mr. Newton's son in law and Bob Sellers his accountant, over and back in the company's De Havilland Dove. I think Bill didn't want to be my first passenger with the company. He apparently got a good report because he went on the next trip to Many.

I was commuting from Houston to Conroe when I had a trip to make and finding it quite hard to do. Interstate 45 was still under construction and most of the highway was two lanes making the trip long and tiresome. Bill suggested that I take a look at a lot in a new subdivision, which he owed, on North Thompson Street, called Sellers Park, and build a home there. He had a builder from Houston associated with him and offered a thousand dollar discount on the lot of our choice. R. V. Coats, the builder, made a similar offer if we would agree to show the house as a model because it would be the first house he built in the subdivision. There was only one house in the subdivision at the time and it was not yet occupied.

Construction began on the house in mid November of 1963 and the concrete slab foundation was poured on November 22, the day that President Kennedy was assassinated. We moved in on January 11, 1964. We were the first to live in the neighborhood and at the time could not see more than twenty feet in any direction, with the exception of the street in front of the house, because of the trees and underbrush. We had to be very cautious, especially at night, if we stepped outside because of snakes.

What is now Loop 336, or the North Loop, was a trail from the Missouri Pacific Railroad to I45 called Cartwright road on which two cars could only pass at certain spots. If they met anywhere else one would have to back up to a passing place. Frazier, Highway 75, was a two-lane street from one end of town to the other and there were no places of business north of Lillie Boulevard except for Moran Gas Company offices at the corner of Frazier and Cartright Road.

I had lots of time on my hands flying for Newton and almost all of my trips were scheduled well in advance, but I would go to the office each morning and have coffee with Bunny, Bob Sellers, Bob Butler, the oil field superintendent, and Bill to see if any trips were planned. On occasion Bill would ask me to take a drive with him. He would usually be in a talkative mood and I suspected that he just wanted someone to talk with, and because I was the only employee without any thing to be doing that day, he chose me. He also knew that I would keep in confidence what he told me. He would at times tell me of family problems and other worries that he had. He was a kind and generous man that thought that too many people were trying to take advantage of him. I think his analysis was correct. We would be gone all day some days and on other days return to the office by noon. After leaving there I would come home and be on call in case an emergency trip came up.

After putting in a lawn and taking care of the many chores involved in moving into a new home I became bored, and welcomed the chance to help the son of a couple Lois had met at church get his Amateur Radio Operator's license.

John Lee Warren was a very shy and quite boy of thirteen. He had suffered from muscular eye problems from birth and had undergone several operations on his eyes. He wanted to be a ham operator and came to the house almost every day to study and to practice International Morse Code in preparation for a Novice License. I found my interest renewed and decided to renew my license, which had expired for lack of use in 1956. We both took the exam. He was issued the call WN5QHX, and I was issued WN5QKE. We now hold WA5QHX and WA5QKE.

After John and I had gotten our General Class Licenses, Lois encouraged me to meet Buddy Boyd, the son of another friend she had met at church. Buddy was a quadriplegic as the result of a swimming accident when he was fifteen years old. He had not been able to use his arms or legs for twenty years and was confined to bed, although he had been able, for several years, to move about in a wheel chair. He had lost all will to live and it was suggested that if I could possibly help him get an Amateur Radio Operator's License, he might recover from his depression. The task would be a real challenge, but after talking together we decided to give it a try. The results of our efforts were most rewarding.

I adapted an electronic Morse code keyer to operate lying on its side by adding an extension to the paddle used to generate dots and dashes. Buddy could lie on his back and with the end of the paddle in his mouth, send the Morse code by moving his head from side to side. He became quite proficient at sending and learned to receive the code equally as well. He couldn't write down what he heard but he could keep it in his head and then tell you each and every letter or word he had heard. He took the exam for his Novice License and within weeks had qualified for and passed his exam for a Conditional General Class License. His call was WA5VTA. Before long that call was known all over the world.

Buddy then spent his hours playing chess, via the amateur radio frequencies, with other handicapped amateurs or just listening on the bands, and rag chewing with friends. He had gotten out of those four walls, if not in body, at least in spirit. He wanted to share this experience with others who were handicapped, and created the "Handicappers Information Net" on the forty meter ham band to aid and assist others like himself to learn the code and theory needed to pass the examination for a ham license. The group is made up mostly of able bodied men and women who go from place to place teaching, putting up antennas, hooking up radios, and some even buying or lending radios to the handicapped so that they might get on the air.

He was a Christian and wanted the world to know it. He had a great influence on my life and gave me in return ten fold for all I did for him. If there was a need that could be filled by an amateur operator, he was always there to help, whether it be running a phone patch for someone to his or her family in a foreign land or just listening to someone else's problems.

When he died, at the age of fifty, the Handicappers Information Net held a memorial service for him on the forty meter band. Amateurs on four continents eulogized him. Most of his many friends simply said, "73, Buddy, I hope to see you farther down the log." He and his faithful nurse, Velma Lee Rudel, are still mentioned from time to time on the Handicappers Information Net which meets each week day at 2:30 p.m. on 7270 Khz. Buddy is the honorary manager.

Flying for Newton Properties was almost like being on vacation as compared to other flying jobs I had previously had. My family was treated as part of the Newton family and it was not rare at all for Bill to call and ask if we had plans for the evening. If we did not, he would invite us to go out to eat with he and his wife Virginia and their grandson Little Bill Kahn. He would not let me pay for anything and would always take us to the best of places to eat. His reserved box seats at the Astrodome were just behind the Astro's dug out, the best seats in the house.

One summer he asked me to fly Bunny, his daughter Melba, his granddaughter Ginny Ann, and Little Bill to California on their vacation. We had traded the Dove for a Twin Beech and then had traded for a Beech Baron, which would seat six people. He told me I could take Loraine if I wanted to, Bunny and Melba insisted. We spent a week in Anaheim touring Disneyland, Knott's Berry Farm, and Marine Land. Jackie Wade's father and mother who lived in San Bernardino took Loraine and I up to Big Bear Lake in the mountains above San Bernardino. It was a week I will always remember.

While we were sitting at the coffee bar one morning, Bill was in a philosophical mood and told skinny Gilbert, a former employee of his, Bunny, Bob Sellers, and I that if the worst came and he had to fall back on the money in his pocket to start over, he thought he would just spend the rest of his life fishing. He said, "I'll have Jim Gazzaway run the motor, Bob Butler bait my hook, and Marion Ryles take the fish off. As long as there is a Newton Properties, those three have a job." Bob and Marion are still there.

Bill had owned a piece of land along Highway 59 in the southeast part of Montgomery County, which he had sold to the Friendswood Development Corporation, and he wanted me to fly up to Dallas to pick up his check for the sale of the land. When I checked the weather I was told that extreme-icing conditions existed and the roads and runways were covered with ice. Flying was out of the question, so Bill told me to take his Cadillac and drive up that afternoon, pick up the check the next morning and come on back.

I hurried home, packed my suitcase, threw it into the back seat and drove to Dallas. The roads were in bad shape and I couldn't drive over about forty miles per hour for fear of sliding off the road on the ice. I spent the night in a Holiday Inn and the next morning when I opened the trunk to put my suitcase away while I was parked downtown to pick up the check, I was shocked to see six cases of Jack Daniels Black Label Whiskey. If I had run off the road or had an accident with all that whiskey in the car I could have been charged with bootlegging. I drove back to Conroe very very carefully.

I arrived one morning to find Bill in his office. He asked me to come in; he had something he wanted to tell me. I sat down after pouring each of us a cup of coffee and listened as he told me he was going to have to do something that morning that he had hoped he would never have to do. I was sure I was going to be fired for, heaven knows what, but much to my surprise he told me he was going to fire Bob Sellers. He asked me to never reveal to anyone what he was about to tell me. He then told me why he was going to fire Bob. I have never told anyone what he told me and never will.

When Bob arrived at the office Bill called him in and told him he was going to let him go. He gave him his company car and an interest in the company. He had done with Bob what he had done with Skinny Gilbert and others in the past. He set him up for life and cut him loose. Bunny was so upset about Bob being fired that he resigned later and went to work for Bob keeping books.

Bill died in 1969. He had ably served as Mayor of Conroe on two different occasions, he had been a strong driving force in the development of the town, and was highly respected by all who knew him. His funeral was the largest I have ever attended. He is sorely missed to this day.

After Bill died I continued to fly the company airplane, but there was little use for it and I could see that it would soon be sold. I volunteered to do whatever was needed to earn my keep and Jim Kirby and George Downs who were jointly running the company suggested that I might work in the real estate office with Hollis Heasley selling homes which Newton Properties was building in two subdivisions. They agreed to send me to school to get my Real Estate Salesman Certificate. I was glad I had accepted the offer when they sold the airplane. I was embarked on a new career.