The pale yellow glow of the refineries may have lit their faces, but the light revealed nothing of their identities.
In the same year, Spindletop produced 17.5 million barrels of oil. Rugged men with anonymous pasts flocked to the area for decades, working the blight of wooden oil derricks and gaslit refineries that sprung up like weeds in the prairies and rice fields that surrounded the city. The pale yellow glow of the refineries may have lit their faces, but the light revealed nothing of their identities. With a new lead on Gibson’s whereabouts, the search effort turned to genealogical records, census reports, death records, and random inquiries at cemeteries. Louise Jeter, a lifelong resident of the Port Arthur area and an accomplished genealogical researcher, volunteered assistance with what she described as “the most unusual request I’ve ever received for help in locating an ancestor.” Within a week, she struck the proverbial gold—or, more appropriate for that region—she struck oil. “John B. Gipson,” son of Joseph Gibson and Texas Ann Sutton, was buried in a local cemetery. When cemetery records showed no such person was buried on the grounds, Louise’s father walked the rows of tombstones searching for the headstone that might unravel the mystery. A manhunt first begun in 1917 was once again closing in on the murderer. Finally, on a cold afternoon in January 2005, John B. Gibson was located, 87 years after his conviction. His granite tombstone, stained with age, bore the last name “Gipson” and the dates 1879 – 1938. A few days later, John Gibson’s obituary and funeral record were located.
