Lex Dale Owens

Lex Dale Owens was an embellisher, someone who friends said gently inflated the events of his life to the exact proportions of his self-image. Friends always saw through the exaggerations, knowing they weren't necessary.

Owens died of natural causes on the day after Christmas, 64 years after setting out on a mission to do just what he wanted to do, said Martin Luecke, a friend whom Owens referred to as an adopted son. Randy Speights, another friend whom Owens "adopted," said Owens accomplished his mission.

"Dale always exaggerated because, I think, he wanted to give people the impression that he was larger than life," Luecke said. "But when you look back at all that he did, it was larger than life."

Austin allowed Owens to live large. Owens was born in Austin and graduated from Austin High School and the University of Texas. Although he traveled widely, Owens found the tolerance in his hometown for liberal politics, different sexual orientations and recreational drugs incomparable, Luecke said.

"He took it upon himself to be an ambassador for Austin," Luecke said. "He always told people, 'I'm from the best place in the world.'"

Owens took photos for The Daily Texan, the university's student-run newspaper, then worked for a short time as a wire service photographer, but it was his other job, as an ambulance driver, that would shape his future.

Owens started Capitol Ambulance Service in 1970, at a time when the city had competing private ambulance companies. Speights, who worked weekends for Owens in the early 1980s while studying to be a doctor, said Owens was the first to set up bases equipped with police radios in various parts of town so his ambulances could beat the other companies to emergency calls.

When the City Council decided Austin was better served by one municipally run ambulance service, Owens turned his attention to the air ambulance service he started in 1972 when Willie Nelson was looking for a helicopter to be available in case of emergency at his Fourth of July picnics, Luecke said.

Owens relished telling friends that Gov. Dolph Briscoe called on Air Ambulance Inc. in 1976 to make a secret run to the Acapulco Princess Hotel in Acapulco, Guerrero. Not until he arrived did Owens' pilot learn that the return cargo was the body of billionaire native Texan Howard Hughes, who had died of kidney failure. Owens said Hughes' personal doctor had asked the governor for help, worried that Mexican officials might somehow take advantage of the Hughes estate if they learned the identity of the deceased.

Despite the apocryphal nature of the story, Luecke said friends believed it had to be true. Had he been making it up, Luecke said, Owens would have been the pilot.

Later, Owens recruited Speights to create a different kind of gay bar in Austin. In 1984, the handful of gay bars in the city discouraged women from patronizing them, Speights said. Uncle Charlie's on Lavaca Street, now known as Charlie's, was a hit because everyone was welcome, said Speights, now one of the owners of Oilcan Harry's.

For a few years, Owens was a ringleader for a group, which included Speights and Luecke, that followed the national tours and eventually befriended the members of the influential 1980s electronic band New Order.

"His whole life revolved around music," Luecke said. A heart attack in 1997 prompted Owens to retire in 2003, but despite heart problems and diabetes, Owens kept going. He volunteered on the safety committee for the Cherrywood Neighborhood Association. He gave tours of Austin as a volunteer for the assistance desk at Austin-Bergstrom International Airport.

Friends have scheduled a memorial service at 5 p.m. today at Austin-Peel & Son Funeral Home before they gather for more recollection at Oilcan Harry's.

Peter Hook, the former bass player for New Order, called Friday from Belgium to tell Luecke that he wouldn't be able to come to Austin. "He told me he would say a prayer," Luecke said, "and play a bangin' tune for Dale in Belgium."

Mark Lisheron, American-Statesman staff; mlisheron@statesman.com; 445-3663