Texans See as Much to Lose as to Gain From War

www.nytimes.com March 10, 2003 By PETER T. KILBORN

ANDREWS, Tex., March 8 — As a welcome to a town with the red, white and blue walls of Buddy's drive-in diner, the slapped-up, steel-skinned service shops of long-ago booms and the horizon of grasshopper-like pumping jacks silently sucking up West Texas crude, the banner at the east end of Broadway is no mere salute to civic aspirations.

As long as a tanker truck and newly painted to keep its sentiments fresh, it proclaims: "Andrews Loves God, Country & Supports Free Enterprise."

Andrews, population close to 10,000, lies 42 miles through mesquite-carpeted rangeland from Midland, President Bush's hometown. Patriotism, faith and freedom to make and lose a buck, touchstones of the Bush presidency, form the bedrock of everyday life in the towns of the Permian Basin, still the biggest source of American oil.

Yet in this heart of Bush country, views of war with Iraq run the gamut of national opinion. For every unswerving proponent of war, there is a foe or equivocator. People here want something done about Saddam Hussein, but many cast doubt on their favorite son's diplomacy, urgency and willingness to go it alone. In terms of both their faith and their oil-dependent pocketbooks, they can see as much to lose as to gain from war.

"I feel like we will go to war, and I'll support it," said Jana Peters, 44, office manager at an oil exploration company. "I think that's the only way we can ensure our safety in my country. If Iraq doesn't want to comply with the United Nations, somebody's got to do it."

But Jonnie Miller, 56, a hardy, crew-cut preacher and owner of L & M Backhoe, which specializes in cleaning up spills in the oil fields, worries about war and a loss of lives. "The Scripture says God placed President Bush in office to take care of us," he said, "and my job is to pray for those in power to make godly decisions.

"But who over there," Mr. Miller asked, "wants us doing what we're doing except us and Kuwait? All life is precious to me. I don't want to see one Iraqi killed. I don't want to see Charles Manson killed."

To protesters who see a blood-for-oil impetus to war, people in Andrews say: don't include us. West Texas oil production has been surging, but largely because of commitments in acquiring drilling rights and lining up rigs made one to four years ago, before much talk of war. "It's not like turning on a tap," said Bradley W. Bunn, 37, a proponent of war who this week completed his seventh well in just over a year.

As in much of the Southwest where towns bloomed by cashing in on their gold, silver, copper, potash and uranium, and then atrophied when the commodities ran down or cheaper foreign commodities dislodged them, West Texas towns of Permian Basin have been slowing down since the early 1970's. Some are ghosts.

Texas produced 364 billion barrels of oil last year, 250 billion fewer than in 1992 and 15 percent of the peak production in 1973. In 2000, according to the census, the median family income in Andrews County, population 13,000, was $37,017, down from $43,756 in 1980. The median home value dropped to $42,500 from $59,558.

This city's movie theater has closed. The Hillcrest Motel is shuttered, with a For Sale sign in front. Among the biggest shops left in town are discounters — Alco, Dollar General and Family Dollar.

Lately, however, resurgence is in the air. Oil prices have rebounded from as low as $10 a barrel in the 1980's here, to $20 a year ago to nearly $40 now. By late last month 169 rigs were drilling into the basin, 20 more than in January and 40 more than a year ago, said Morris Burns, executive vice president of the Permian Basin Petroleum Association in Midland. "That's a big increase," he said.

In Andrews, flatbed 18-wheelers lugging drilling and casing pile rumble through town, want ads are looking for welders, electricians, roughnecks and roustabouts. Companies that reactivate long-silenced wells are busy. L & M Backhoe added two more roustabouts to its team of six last week.

Economists attribute much of the rise to faster economic growth and to shrinking supplies of oil because of the oil industry strike in Venezuela and the cold winter. The markets' anticipation of war is contributing, too, they say. A shutdown of Iraqi oil fields or another Arab oil embargo could spur world prices and domestic American production.

But in Andrews, people say the more likely outcome is a short-lived spike in prices, like the one to nearly $40 a barrel as the last war in the Persian Gulf began, followed by the collapse to $20 as it ended. "We're all waiting for the hammer to fall — the next downturn in prices," said Don Ingram, publisher of the twice-weekly Andrews County News. "Everyone assumes it will go down just like before."

At Buddy's, an unabashedly patriotic diner that has held on since 1969 largely on the local appeal of a fat-encrusted deep-fried specialty called steak fingers, a table of oil business retirees while away an hour.

"We've got to get rid of Saddam Hussein," said B. L. Tipton, 77.

But what the oil patch needs most, the men said, is relative price stability like the kind they knew until the mid-1980's. "War is disruptive," said Joseph Golden, 87. "You can't get stabilized."

Anxiety about war has touched Andrews High School. An article in the latest edition of the Round Up, the student newspaper, tells of two senior girls with boyfriends in the armed forces. "I am terrified," it quotes Sara Blodgett saying. "I think they could resolve this without war."

Marcy Hubbard said, "I support a military move against Iraq, because it is better to get rid of him now so that our children and grandchildren won't have to do it." But she added, "If I could say one thing to President Bush and his military advisers, I would tell him to do what they can to protect our military personnel."

On a personal level, President Bush is widely admired in Andrews by many Democrats as much as he is by Republicans. At Buddy's, Elmer Feland, 72 and retired, voted against him and supports a war. "He still needs to be got out of there," he said of Mr. Bush. His wife, Betty, 65 and retired, said: "I agree with that. But he's likable. I like that he believes in God and prayer."

Like him or not, some people here find the president's style in promoting war grating and unstatesmanlike. "I think of Teddy Roosevelt walking softly and carrying a big stick," Mr. Ingram said. "I think that still holds around here."

Edward J. Phillips, 75, a barber, is a Democrat-turned-independent who voted for Mr. Bush. "I think he's a good man, but he needs to slow down on some of his talking" he said. "I wish he wouldn't make so many talks. You can say more in five seconds than you can straighten out in a lifetime."

Between haircuts, Mr. Phillips unfolds a map of the Middle East. Tallying up the population there, he warned of retaliation against the United States. "If all those countries banded together, we would have problems. There's a lot of innocent people who are going to get killed if we go to war."

Mr. Bunn, who contends that the risk of not going to war against Saddam Hussein in Iraq exceeds the risk of trying to remove him from power, said: "I think anybody who listens to the president's speeches would find his language has been even and diplomatic. The idea that he's been too forceful is a bad rap.

"But there's a strain of West Texas straight talk that unfortunately may be misunderstood." Mr. Bunn said. In West Texas, he said, "black is black, white is white and an apple is an apple. We mean what we say."