In photos, he looks for all the world like an ordinary farmer, sporting dusty boots and an open-collared shirt. Peering out from under his hat brim, he tolerates the camera’s intrusion for but an instant, anxious to return to his work. But behind the solemn gaze and simple clothing stood one of Oklahoma’s greatest oilmen. His head for business helped him build one of the country’s largest petroleum empires. And his generous heart led him to transform his vast fortune into prosperity for others, people he would never know and who were far removed from the oil patch.
James Allen Chapman was born on April 3, 1881, near Waxahachie, Texas, where his family made their living as farmers and ranchers. After completing the eighth grade, he left school to devote his time to the family business. But at the age of 20, Chapman decided it was time to seek his fortune, so he headed north to Holdenville, Okla., where his uncle Robert McFarlin ran a cattle operation. Little did either man know that they were about to forge a partnership that would last the remainder of their lives and write a new chapter in the history of Oklahoma—and OMRF.
As part of their cattle operation, Chapman and McFarlin had been buying and selling land in the Tulsa area, mostly for agricultural purposes. But when oil was struck in 1905 at the “Glenn Pool” south of Tulsa, the pair realized that the greatest economic opportunity might not be found on the land but, rather, under it. So they formed the Holdenville Oil and Gas Company and drilled a single well on a modest 40-acre parcel of land near Kiefer, not far from the original Glenn Pool strike. The well was a gusher. Oil flowed in abundance, and within two short years, McFarlin and Chapman were millionaires.
“They were essentially farm boys with ambition and good business sense,” says Dr. Paul Lambert of the Oklahoma Historical Society. “They watched as others took tremendous risks, but they proceeded with caution. And it paid off handsomely.”
Chapman married McFarlin’s daughter Leta Mae in 1908. Now bound even more closely by family ties, the two built a petroleum empire that would stand among the best in the country. In 1912, the partners dissolved the Holdenville Oil and Gas Company and founded the McMan Oil Company, whose name was a blended version of their own. Their drilling ventures in the newly tapped Cushing field produced oil in such quantities that McMan found itself building a storage tank a day just to keep up with the flow.
In 1916, the pair sold McMan to Magnolia Oil Company, which would later become Mobil, for $39 million plus 20,000 shares of Magnolia stock. The cash portion of the sale alone would total nearly $800 million in 2008 dollars. Indeed, the transaction stood as the largest oilfield sale on record well into the 1950s.
Chapman and McFarlin were wealthy beyond all comprehension. Yet, like so many wildcatters, they yearned to return to the oil patch. “The two found that the oil business suited their temperaments and desires, for it allowed them to be outside breathing fresh air, it kept them close to the soil, and they were their own bosses,” wrote Carl Tyson in his book The McMan. So later that same year, nephew and uncle started a second McMan Oil and Gas Company. They operated that company—again with much success—until 1930, when they sold it to Standard Oil of Indiana (now Amoco) for $20 million.
Despite his riches, Chapman still loved the simple life of farming and ranching he’d had as a young boy in central Texas. So he returned to his ranch in Osage County, where he and McFarlin’s nephew Horace Barnard maintained a cattle operation. Until well into his 70s, Chapman derived his greatest pleasure from riding around the ranch and doing the “dirty work”—herding, vaccinating and branding cattle.
On the heels of World War II, Chapman met with longtime McMan attorney John Rogers to discuss estate planning. He instructed Rogers to outline a plan that would give the majority of his estate to education, medicine and research. “Jim Chapman was a self-made man and believed in giving back to his community,” says Sharon Bell, who now serves as the individual trustee of a group of charitable trusts created by the Chapmans. “Education was something he could not afford, so he wanted to give people the opportunity to make something of themselves in the same way he had made himself.” He focused on indigent care in hospitals to help those most in need of health care. And medical research? “Because doing basic research for the good of mankind here in Oklahoma appealed to him.”
To that end, he asked Rogers to talk to his friends in Oklahoma City and organize a medical research foundation there. As luck would have it, at that same time, a group of doctors was already spearheading the creation of OMRF. After connecting with those physicians, Rogers became a key player in the formation of OMRF. In 1949—the same year that OMRF broke ground on its first building—it was one of seven charities named as beneficiaries of the newly formed James A. and Leta M. Chapman Trust. “OMRF was really a dream without a building when Mr. Chapman formed that first trust,” says Bell.
In the six decades since, Chapman funds have provided a financial cornerstone that helped build OMRF and sustain its success. Donations from that first trust, as well as others the Chapmans later created, have not only paid OMRF’s day-to-day operating expenses, they have provided start-up funds for new investigators, established an endowed chair and allowed for renovation and remodeling of OMRF’s buildings. They have also made possible untold lectureships, scientific awards, matching funds and construction projects—including a major new research tower at OMRF.
Perhaps most importantly, those funds have given OMRF a unique position among charities. “The Chapman trusts provide funds to support OMRF’s administrative and overhead costs,” says OMRF President Stephen Prescott. “So when we receive a gift, we can tell donors that 100 percent of that donation will be used to support research. How many other charities can say that?”
Although the Chapmans gave to many, they chose to maintain their privacy and went to great lengths to remain anonymous. Just as he had been prone to do in the oil business, Chapman shunned the spotlight when it came to philanthropy. All beneficiaries were given two strict instructions: Remain a nonprofit organization and keep the source of their gift confidential—or risk losing the money. So insistent on secrecy was Chapman that it led some to dub him “Mr. Anonymous.” However, he grudgingly agreed that, upon his and Leta’s death, their names could be revealed.
Chapman died in 1966, and Leta passed away eight years later. “I know the Chapmans would be proud of OMRF and all it has become,” says Bell. And just maybe, Jim Chapman would have tipped his dusty cowboy hat to those who carry out his wishes today—those who still share his vision for excellence and work hard to see it met.
“OMRF grew because Oklahomans believed in it and planted the seeds of success here through their gifts,” say Prescott. “But Mr. Chapman planted the most prolific seeds of all when he created his trusts and chose us as a recipient of his hard-earned fortune. Just as he laid the foundation for his business success by working in the shadows, he did the same for OMRF. We all owe him a debt of gratitude for what we enjoy today.”
