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  • Texas | Columns | They Shoe Horses, Don't They?

    Where Cowboys Come From

    by Fred O. Simon
    Well, the start to this “Cowboy” career came about because my momma and daddy took me, at about the age of two, over on Harrisburg Road to ride a little horse that walked around the ring and seemed to take forever. One day, a new boy put me, by mistake, on a different horse that high-loped around the ring and caused my mother to nearly faint dead-away -- but, too late. The “damage” had been done! I was ruined; hooked on the experience. I was a cowboy, in my mind anyway.
    Boy on horseback
    "Danny" Rather on horseback
    Photo courtesy Wharton County Historical Museum
    So, from then until twelve, I rode every horse I could get on and read everything I could about cowboys and horses. I read all the books by Will James and that, of course, ruined me more than ever, because now I just had to learn how to ride a “bucking horse”.Now, there was a horse-trader’s lot just a hop, skip, and jump down the road from our house; so, naturally, I had to go down and volunteer to ride all of the new horses he got in trade, and the broncs he got, as well. First thing, you know, I got to where I thought I could ride anything. How wrong can one be?

    Well, I went to a rodeo one Sunday with another horse-breaker and rode my first bucking horse. I spurred him all about the head and shoulders and the resulting reaction ruined me more than ever. I was sure-enough hooked now – a bronc rider! I got on the next nineteen head before I rode another; but, couldn’t wait to do it again.
    I quit school and went out “on the rodeo trail” to find fame and fortune. I didn’t find it, though. I did find out that I was too lazy to work and too scared to steal; so, I was in kind of a trap for twelve years, but striving to do best at what I enjoyed most.

    Fortunately for me, I met my best friend, Buck, and his daddy. We traveled together and had a fine time, for a long time. I started riding bulls, because you didn’t have to spur them and I thought that was a good thing. Little did I know!

    We all entered the big rodeo, in Houston, and I mistakenly thought I was as good as Harry Tompkins, Jim Shoulders, Buck Rutherford, and the Robert’s brothers. Huge error!

    World of Rodeo’s PRCA Hall of Fame
    Harry Tompkins Dublin, Texas 1960, 1952
    Jim Shoulders Henryetta, Oklahoma 1959, 1958, 1957, 1956, 1949
    Buck Rutherford Lenapah, Oklahoma 1954
    Gerald Roberts Strong City, Kansas 1948, 1942
    Courtesy www.worldofrodeo.com

    I followed them on the circuit to all the big rodeos and I even placed in a few of them; not nearly enough, though.

    We were about to go to Cheyenne one year when I got a letter from my mom informing me that I had been drafted into the Army; so, I never got to make that trip. I went to Korea, instead. That’s a heck of a tradeoff, isn’t it? After my return from military duty, I took a job with a big oil refinery and enrolled into college to become an engineer. Years later, I got into the steel fabricating business and was given a chance to entice Buck to work for me. I was still involved with horses; but then, participating in cutting-horse competitions.Now, Buck was a pretty good sculptor. He would create bull-riding statues and I would buy them to give to the champion bull-riders in Houston. We did this for quite a few years.

    Time goes on, and Buck died last year. I’m older than water and I just keep on keeping-on. I enjoy watching bull-riding events on TV and I wonder just how rank some of those bulls can get. They’re better than they used to be. In my mind’s eye, though, I can still visualize sitting on one of them!


    © Fred O. Simon, Katy, Texas

    They Shoe Horses, Don't They? August 22, 2012 Guest column
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