How to Lose a Million

A brash and bushy-haired Kentuckian named H. Keith Williams breezed into Dallas two years ago, determined to break into the Big Rich. Williams, 23, son of a prosperous Louisville furniture manufacturer, announced to all who would listen that he was going into the oil business. True, he had only a $1,200 stake, but that did not faze him. Said he: "I've had experience in road construction and furniture manufacturing, and there's a lot in common between those two and oil. They all use heavy machinery." That seemed to satisfy investors anxious to get in with a possible challenger to oil-rich Clint Murchison. Williams soon collected more than $800,000 from some 100 to 300 investors, much of it from "people my daddy knew."

Williams formed a company, drilled some 30 wells. For a time things appeared to go swimmingly. Paying himself $500 a week out of the oil funds ("We would draw money against anticipated profits"), he wore frilly white shirts and banker's grey suits, drove a company-owned Buick, and bought a $67,500 house in a fashionable suburb. In the living room, he hung a portrait of Robert E. Lee and one of himself posed dramatically in front of a towering oil derrick. But the derrick was about as near to gushers as he got. Oil dribbled out of only six Williams wells, and in unimpressive amounts.

Williams was hauled into federal court in Dallas fortnight ago in bankruptcy proceedings against his Williams Petroleum, Inc. Besides losing the money his backers invested, Williams ended up owing $264,471 to more than 200 creditors for everything from flowers to drilling rigs, including a $340 bill to the Diners' Club. In fact, he told the court, he had no money to pay for a lawyer. Asked by his creditors' attorney whether he ever inspected his books, Williams replied politely, "No, sir." Requested to examine his balance sheet (which under "cash on hand" carried the terse entry: "None"), he fumbled through the papers, asked: "Which column do I read? I don't know debits, credits. I didn't know how to read them if I saw them. I don't know about these corporation matters."

Last week, as the case ground on, neither Williams nor his wife seemed overly concerned about the bankruptcy proceedings. Says Williams, who claims that some of his other oil investments have been profitable: "I'm going to go right ahead. I'm not personally bankrupt. Any oilman knows that just because one company is bankrupt, it doesn't mean a thing." For Mrs. Williams, the bankruptcy proceedings may have one incidental advantage. Her husband may change his invariable diet of "real thick steaks smothered in garlic salt." Said she last week: "I'm so sick of eating steak, I'm going to go right out and buy us some chicken."

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