Murray McIntosh
Murray McIntosh
Tim Barger 1/21/15
Circled l-r: Scott Miller, Murray McIntosh, Tim Barger
I'm sorry to report that Murray McIntosh from the Dhahran class of 1962 passed away at age 67 on January 18th at his home in La Quinta, California. Growing up in the 1950s, Murray was one of my best friends and partner in dozens of those youthful capers that make childhood so memorable. We called him Maco. In my stories about Aramco I called him Milt.
He lived on 10th street, a block away from me, and we were inseparable. Together we schemed and plotted adventures of all kinds. He and I with Scott Miller defied the dangers of the labyrinth of AC ducts beneath the Dhahran movie theater. Maco and I built stilts and fell off them countless times until we mastered the art and could finally walk for hours without a stumble. We made sling shots and blow guns and kangaroo bikes. We scoured the alleys and garbage cans of camp looking for treasures that could fire our imaginations. We built crystal radios and when our efforts to learn more about electronics were rebuffed, we liberated a couple of the company's walkie talkies and set up our own radio network in a venture that ended poorly
Murray always had a new enthusiasm to answer the age old problem of "There is nothing to do in Dhahran." And when I had a devilish idea, he was sure to back it all the way to its usually ill-fated conclusion. We spent endless hours trying to understand why girls were so mystifying, adults so clueless and constantly conspired against boredom: building forts out of shipping crates, idling under oleander thickets or hedges heavy with Malathion, sneaking into the AC plants around camp to watch the water endlessly falling through the wooden baffles to cool the town. One time we built a high jump bar in his backyard and spent days jumping and jumping trying to raise the bar inch by inch
Another time Murray became obsessed with wire-controlled model airplanes. Somehow, we obtained the small .049 engines needed to power our model airplanes and flew them in circles until we were dizzy or crashed the planes. These engines required methanol and castor oil mixed with ether to make them operate. His dad had a connection in Materials Supply and brought home a case of small cans of medical grade ether and we were set. After we had demolished both of our airplanes in sensational wrecks, Murray still had a few cans left. So in the alley behind his house, he punctured the top of an ether can and used a lighter to ignite the highly-volatile, escaping gas into a furious blowtorch. Then he threw it up into the air and when it hit the ground the can burped up a giant twenty-foot-high plume of fire. It was the neatest thing we had ever seen and we didn't stop until all the cans were empty.
After we went away for high school our paths diverged. We pursued different interests and ran with a different circle of friends. Over the years we would occasionally meet up and though we took separate paths, we went at it the same way. Trying to jump higher each day and always savoring those spectacular moments when the bouncing ether can of life emitted a gigantic flame. Rest in peace Maco.
Condolences for Marray McIntosh may be sent to:
The McIntosh Family
79215 Shadow Trail,
La Quinta, CA 92253