Image Courtesy of PFFK #7
A Tale of Two Carmons
Today’s story starts out in Pineville, MO, a town of three people, and ends with a Trinket.
This story also involves Carmon Earl Jr. . . . often referred to (by me) as Carbomb Oil Jr., or just Carbomb Jr.
Carbomb Jr. was Hannibal’s half brother. He was born in March 1940 to Hannibal’s dad -- Carmon Sr. -- and his first wife, Mary Ellen Happy (her actual name, for some reason). I don’t think she was too happy, though, because they got divorced in 1944 for the cause of “dessertion”. It is not clear who left whom.
Back then “no-fault” divorce did not exist, so you had to have a valid reason for getting a divorce -- e.g., “cruelty”. “infidelity”, “dissertion”, etc. And in small towns back then, life’s every coming and going -- like out of town visitors, who they were visiting, recent events at the Elk River Extension Club, petty and serious crimes, and also divorces -- were reported in the local Newspaper. That is how I found the divorce record.
Anyway, Mary Ellen died in 1958, so I don’t think she had a happy life, and I think Carbomb Jr. had something to do with that. He will figure into our story much later, as more fully explained below.
McDonald’s is your Kind of Place . . .
McDonald county MO, that is. The county seat is Pineville, a town of three people.
Garden City Telegram, Monday, July 11, 1960
Hold Man for Six Charges
Carmen Puryear, 20-year old former convict, is held in the McDonald County jail on two counts of attempted rape, two charges of kidnaping and two charges of grand larceny.
A juvenile also was arrested and turned over to juvenile authorities in connection with the attack Saturday night near Noel, MO.
Officers said Puryear and the juvenile came upon a stalled car occupied by Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair Rogers and Mr. and Mrs. Carroll Chenoweth of Cassville, MO.
Puryear offered to push the Rogers car. It failed to start and he offered to take Chenoweth and Rogers to Lanagan, MO to seek a mechanic.
Officers said Puryear left Chenoweth and Rogers in Lanagan, returned to the stalled car and told the women their husbands were waiting for him to drive them to Lanagan.
Authorities said Puryear turned off on a country road and attacked the women.
[END]
Here is the article.
Image courtesy of the Internet
This 20 year old Carmen Puryear is the exact same half-brother of Hannibal mentioned above.
I have yet to find a redeeming human from Pineville, MO, a town of three people.
So, the attempted rape took place on July 9, 1960 and Carbomb Jr. was swiftly convicted. He was sentenced to 2 years in prison.
Not to worry though, because in August 1960 he sawed his way out of prison and escaped. I think he probably had help from someone either inside or outside of the prison.
But not to worry though, he was caught hiding in a kitchen cabinet in his grandmother’s house in nearby Noel, MO, a town of 3 other people, and sentenced to another 2 years.
Needless to say, it gets worse. After being released, Carbomb Jr., was busted violating the Dyer Act in 1966, which covers transporting stolen automobiles across state lines, in this case from Ada, OK, to Perryton TX up there in the Panhandle and about 40 miles East of Gruver.
Then there are the odd DWI’s, larceny, selling mortgaged property convictions. All in all, not a desirable member of one’s family.
I couldn’t find much on Carbomb Jr. Though here he is in Anderson HS in 1952.
Source: Ancestry
He looks like Myron.
Here he is in Joplin in 1956. He’s in the front row, fourth from the left. I put a red arrow for your convenience. You’re welcome!
Source: Ancestry
Me used to be angry young man!
His mother, Mary Ellen, died in Yolo, CA in 1958, just a few years after this picture was taken. I doubt she was even in Missouri when Carbomb Jr. was growing up. My Aunt Eldna -- Hannibal’s sister -- recently told me that Carbomb Jr. was spoiled by his grandmother. Eldna had no idea about Carbomb Jr.’s criminal past. More on that later. Don’t want to give the story away too quick.
. . . Hamburgers in your Face
Before we move on to the actual story, let me tell you a little bit about Pineville MO, a town of three people.
It is the county seat of McDonald county MO, which itself borders Oklahoma to the West and Arkansas to the South. Joplin MO is 45 miles to the North which is just a step away from Kansas. So, from Pineville, MO, a town of three people, you can be across state lines in minutes.
Most people think Oklahoma is all sand and nothing else. That is not the case. The area just across the border from McDonald county, MO, is leafy and hilly, with lots of hiding spots. This is where the 1930s bank robbers would hang out after robbing a bank in another state. Bonnie and Clyde came through these parts.
Arnold Landers, the criminal who stole cattle from my Grandfather in 1979 -- among many other misdeeds -- lives there in a town called Grove. Last time I checked, anyway.
And then there’s Northwest Arkansas, which is even closer. And we know what goes on in Northwest Arkansas!
I call this area the Devil’s Triangle.
Here is a Junior Roadmap from 1939 to give you an idea.
Source: Internet Archive; Remix by PFFK #7
Wynnter in Vegas
February 20, 2011
I had just returned from my 2nd best trip to Vegas and was in Amarillo. Some people don’t love Vegas. I didn’t always either.
For this part of my life, I enjoyed it. That is back when Steve Wynn ran the Wynn, and I would often see him strolling by with a few staff members in tow. I’m not sure how many hotels I have been a guest in, it’s a lot. More than 50. Maybe even more than 100. Steve Wynn, by far, was the most present and hands on owner / manager I have ever seen.
In 2011, I stayed at the Wynn Encore which had just opened back in late 2008. We were still in the midst of the financial crises and the place was empty. No on at the bars or restaurants. It was like hiding in plain sight.
The Wynn has these amazing flower features in the form of hot air balloons, merry-go-rounds and much more. Here is a picture I took in on Christmas Day 2013.
Image Courtesy of PFK #7
This was also back when Paul Bartolotta had a fantastic restaurant in the Wynn. It was called “Bartolotta” for some reason. The bartender there was named Rich. Great guy who always had the best things to say about Steve Wynn. And always called him “Mr. Wynn”. Treated his staff well, Rich said. Unless you crossed him, of course, then you were a “Piranha Non Grata“.
I always loved that place. They had this really cool hanging sculpture made up of golden fish.
Here is a pic, also from Christmas 2013.
Image Courtesy of PFK #7
Anyway, the Vegas Bartolotta closed in 2015. Rich the Bartender told us that Mr. Wynn “requested” Mr. Bartolotta spend more time in Vegas, which is not in Wisconsin, where his several other restaurants are. Mr. Bartolotta declined, so Wynn told him to fork off.
In 2011, you could also get some of the best Peking duck in the U.S. from Wing Lei at the Wynn. They are the first Chinese restaurant in North America to earn a Michelin Star (2008). I have had Peking Duck in Hong Kong and China and always enjoyed it. I could not find good Peking Duck in the U.S., though, until I came across Wing Lei.
As for going to Vegas for gambling, I don’t know how to gamble and don’t want to. We are probably some of the only people to go to Vegas and never gamble. Not even one time.
Two Booms for the Price of One
For one of my birthday celebrations in 2004, I was at The Wynn with my good friend Salmonella (not her real name).
We were out late and immediately crashed when we got back to our room. Around 2 am, Vegas time, there was a massive explosion outside with huge flames and smoke. It was LITERALLY right outside of our room. This happened not too many years after 9/11. So we freaked out and grabbed our jewelry, ran out the door and headed for the elevator.
We were wondering if there was anything else, valuable or passports, etc., we should have grabbed. It was quite frenzied. When we got to the lobby, frantic and out of breath, we asked the front desk what was happening.
“Didn’t you see the letter?”
“What letter?”, I replied.
“The letter we slipped under the door yesterday?” [oooh, that letter, I said to myself in square brackets]
“To notify guest there would be an overnight implosion. “
Ooops. I LITERALLY did not get the memo.
Anyway, the Palms and St. Andrews parts of the Desert Inn were being demolished to build the Wynn Encore.
When Steve Wynn was in charge, I always felt safe there. These were the years where I was so jetlagged, I never really knew what time it was, unless I had an upcoming flight. So Vegas was great because there were many nice places open 24 hours a day. Another bonus there is In n’ Out. One of my favorite breakfast spots is Tableau and the best waiter there is from Dumas.
Back then a filet at SW was $45, present day priced at $118. Back then, they served my favorite coffee and straws came with your drink. And they were plastic. And you didn’t have to ask.
By the way, I had dinner with Steve Wynn in 2018 at Wing Lei on the day he stepped down. I also had dinner with him at Wazuzu the night before when he was on the phone with his lawyer, I think. And by, “I had dinner with”, I totally mean I was at a nearby table. Careful not to look in that general direction to avoid getting thrown out by Andrea.
There is a really cool Catholic church just across the street to the North of the Wynn. It is the Guardian Angel Cathedral, designed as an A-Frame by Paul R. Williams, who was a very talented architect.
OK. I know what you are thinking. There is no evidence of even ONE Uncle Bun, let alone two, in this story. Have I lost my Vulcan mind?
Uncle Bun in the Second Degree
Back to February 20, 2011. In Amarillo at my sister’s(?) house. My Niece had just turned 7 months old, and they began calling me “Bun” for no reason that I knew of.
HANNIBAL -- Speaking to me
Hey Bun, can you grab the diaper bag?
SISTER(?)
It’s over there on the kitchen counter.
ME
Who’s Bun?
(The I did a Robert Di Niro from Taxi Driver -- another film I did not like.)
You talkin’ to me? Well, I’m the only one here.
(Then I whipped out a pretend gun using my thumb and forefinger. They just looked at each other, no doubt thinking I lost my Vulcan mind).
ME Again
Seriously, who is Bun?
HANNIBAL
That’s just a family tradition. We call the oldest Aunt or Uncle “Bun” so the nieces will have a short easy name to remember when they start taking.
I remember thinking, I guess “gullible” was taken. And I totally did NOT get the memo on family naming conventions.
So, they called me Bun, and I even started to refer to myself as “Bunny”. Also, “Bunny-licious” for fun. I even signed off on emails as “Bunny, my Aunt” name. Note: She always called me “Bun” not “Bunny”. Except when I referred to myself as Bunny-licious. So she adopted that for awhile, but not for long.
My role as an aunt is one of my favorites and, of course, my sister(?) and Hannibal were aware of this. It only took a few months for Hannibal to refer to me as “Bun”. There are still people I ring up and when I say my actual name, they are confused until I say “it’s Bunny” or “it’s Bun”.
However, it was Hannibal that had given me the name Bun and really went all in with it. I recall thinking how much she must love the name because she was constantly saying “Bun”. Like Tourette Syndrome.
As in the following amalgamation:
Hannibal Anne
“Hey Bun, can you book us to Vegas?” or “Hey Bun, can you go pick us up some Texas Tea?” or “Hey Bun, can you meet us for lunch?” or “Hey Bun, can you order decorations for the next birthday party?” or “Hey Bun, can you meet us in Dallas and book The Mansion?” or, “Hey Bun, can we cancel you and pretend you never existed?” OK. I made up that last one. They never asked me.
Yes, Bun always came through and usually paid for it out of Bun’s own pocket book.
It wasn’t until recently that I really thought about the origins of Bun.
As Keith Morrison might say: “In all the ways we see life moving before us, do we really know where the funny family names come from? Or what they mean? What is a Bunny or a Bun? Well, the answer to those questions takes us down a deep and dark path. A path that nobody really comprehends, where nobody sees the darkness behind the next silly little curve on the road ahead. A curve that appears to us like a dream. But Oh, the reality is always much worse than the silly little dream.”
Or words to that effect.
In simpler terms -- much simpler -- some might say “where in the Bunny hell did this one come from.”
Turns out there is a much darker reason Hannibal started calling me “Bun”, which I will explain to paid subscribers. Just kidding. Everyone should hear this one.
OK. I will tell you.
Uncle Bun in the First Degree
It is 2023. I am on the phone with my recently discovered Aunt Eldna, Hannibal’s sister. I asked her if she knew she had an older half brother.
Eldna
Oh yeah. He was born way before all of us. Carbomb Jr. With my dad’s first wife, Mary Ellen. We didn’t know him until he turned up when we were living in Floydada. The town. Not the Spanish surrealist painter.
ME
In Floydada? The Spanish surrealist painter? That makes no sense.
Eldna
I know. The editors here make us say that. It makes no sense to me either.
ME
I hate them editors as if they were myself.
So, seriously, you knew about your half brother?
ELDNA
Yes, everyone in the family knew about him. Including your mom Hannibal.
We all called him Bun and my kids called him Uncle Bun.
Me
Wait, did you just say you called him “Bun”? Why?
ELDNA
You know. I have no idea why we called him “Bun”. He was always around, though, from the mid 1960s. We didn’t see him much before that. We thought he might have been in the Army because he was in ROTC in Joplin in the 1950s. Our dad never talked about him much, though.
ME
Did you know he was a convicted criminal, as in a rapist? And lots of other stuff?”
Eldna
No. A convicted felon? Really? For what?
Me
Attempted rape. Larceny. Transporting stolen vehicles across state lines. He even broke out of jail. Which is pretty cool, I must admit. He was finally caught hiding in his grandmother’s kitchen cabinet.
Eldna
Oh. OK. That makes sense. His mother Mary Ellen was a no show. She disappeared sometimes in the 1950s and moved to California. Carmon Jr’s grandmother spoiled him. Our dad wanted nothing to do with him. Said he was a bad ‘en. To stay away.
Take the Last Train to Trinketville
Remember I told you about trinkets? How all psychopaths keep them. Trinkets are not just necklaces or key chains or hair bands psychopaths take from their victims. Trinkets can be anything that reminds the psychopath about the evil things they do.
Trinkets can be people -- like illegitimate kids. Trinkets can also be names applied to actual living people. Like me!
So, Freakin’ Hannibal! She named me Bun. After her rapist brother? Or, after her rapist half brother?
Was this Hannibal’s way of always reminding herself that her half brother Carbomb Jr. and I shared a trait? That I was my Nieces’ half-Aunt? Which would make my sister(?) a half sister(?)
Wait. That was not clear. Let’s try this.
Carbomb Jr. -- known as “Bun” -- was my Half-Uncle. I am also known as “Bun”. Does this make me a Half-Aunt?
OK. That’s still not clear enough. Try this.
Does my sister(?) have a different dad than I do? Making me an Uncle Bun in Hannibal Land?
Just between me and I, I’m leaning towards yes.
I will tell you all why I think that in a future episode entitled “Seriously, I Do Not Know These People“
