Memorial Day and Grandpop

Howdy Friends,  

This is the Thirteenth in my series of Grandpop stories based loosely on my Uncle Ed, a WWII Vet, and real life cowboy. I began writing about Grandpop, June 27, 2013, with what at the time I imagined what would be a standalone short story, "Perhaps I've Just Lived Too Long." You can read that story (and find links to go on) (HERE)   Folks said they enjoy visiting with Grandpop, so I wrote more. Frankly, I enjoy him too.

Memorial Day and Grandpop

My cousin’s younger sister and her children had swung by to spend the weekend. Memorial Day being the big kick-off to summer and all. I heard the girls giggling in the barn as soon as I pulled in. I knew they’d be romping, as kids are want to do in early afternoon warmth in a barn full of hay, horses, tack and love. Grandpop was like a magnet to young folks, where he was they would be.

Giving my eyes a chance to adjust to the inside light I saw Grandpop had his new mare standing ground tied while the girls worked happily brushing her. Grandpop supervised from a comfortable looking hay bale perch.

“Howdy Son!” He greeted. “You’ll need to fetch a horse if you’re joinin’ us. I figured on a short warm up, get the kinks out, ride this afternoon so we’re all set for tomorrow’s big deal.”

I can’t recall how many Memorial Day parades Grandpop had ridden in, as far as I knew he’d only missed a few over the years, ever since he and Mom set stakes here right after WWII. I can remember he’d been the driving force in keeping the parade alive a few times when interest faded from time to time. “Can’t allow certain things to disappear from life.” He’d told town council more than once.

Grandpop never was one to bother much with town business, but everyone knew him and most folks valued his opinion. There was that one year; I think I was senior in high school when the parade was pretty much Grandpop, a few veteran friends, mom, my sister and me, one fire truck and half the school band. He told me once if it’s only him and a horse, as long as he’s on this side of the grass he’d do his best to have a Memorial Day parade in town. “For the youngin’s. Need to make sure they keep rememberin’ Memorial Day is more than hot dogs and a long weekend.”

We started out four abreast, just as we’d ride in the morning in town. The girls looked great, smiles as wide as the meadow. The horses marched magnificently, as if they understood the importance of the day. Grandpop always did, and still can sit a horse as finely as ever anyone who has ever ridden. The years have taken a toll; his shoulders not quite a square, but the aura of the man gleamed when he sat a horse, or talked about the respect for our country, and honor of those who’d paid the ultimate price to keep her free, and safe. Of course he shined when he spoke of mom, us kids, grandkids, great grandkids, horses, love and God ... but when respect and honor for our country was the topic, he radiated.

We rode for an hour, Grandpop told the girls, although he’d told them before, Memorial Day was first known as Decoration Day when it started, right after the Civil War, as widows decorated the graves of those fallen in that great conflict. “It’s grown now to honor all those who’ve died while serving.” He explained. “Veteran’s day in the fall honors all who’ve served.”

We rounded the turn heading back to the corrals and the girls excitement grew for the next day’s ride. They would each be carrying flags. Watching their happy faces and listening to their questions I knew these two would never allow the meaning of Memorial Day to disappear from their lives.

Gitty Up, Dutch Henry

Please check out my website www.itsforthehorses.com to have a look at all my books and book trailer for It's for the Horses ~ Thanks

Heartland Horse Heroes Second – Inner City Slickers Day

Howdy Folks,

Saturday, October 18, Heartland Horse Heroes held their second Inner City Slickers (ICS) day. ICS, founded by Michael McMeel, former drummer for Three Dog Night, is a program where at-risk youth spend a day on a ranch, farm or equestrian center learning through ranch and equestrian chores, activities and fun, by the "Cowboy Code," they indeed are important, they have purpose, can build self esteem, trust and feel honor. There is a real magic in the day and you can read more about Michael and ICS HERE.

Heartland Horse Heroes had invited girls from the Discovery School, and beforehand we had asked for each girl to write a short note about themselves, their fears, worries and why they were at the Discovery School. Michael and I reviewed the stories Friday evening, and they were so sad, tough to read. These 11 girls ranged in age between 12 and 17 and each had already in their young lives endured so much. No wonder self esteem, trust and honor were foreign to them. Let me mention here, we could not hold this program without our fantastic volunteers, some of whom drove 3 and 6 hours to be there.

LaRue Sprouse talking about holding onto your dreams no matter the obstacles

The day started with the participants' arrival, LaRue Sprouse, owner of Sprouses' Corner Ranch and host of Heartland Horse Heroes led them on a short farm tour. She paused at the big show ring and spoke about her own dreams, and the hurdles she needed to overcome to realize them. I took the moment to build on that and encouraged them to look around at the beauty, the horses, the world that LaRue had created. We talked about holding fast to your dream, expect people to tell you, "you can't do it," and forging ahead anyway - The only negativity that can touch you is what you allow, so you have it in your power to brush it aside, to grab your dream.

Michael explains the power of self confidence.

Michael began to talk and engage them, he asked real questions about being let down, about trust, respect. I watched closely their faces, saw some ready to trust him, others roll their eyes as if to say, "Heard all this before, no-one cares." He painted pictures they could see with his words, promised he would always be there for them, promised they could trust him, and themselves, and told them today would be a journey of building trust, confidence and self respect. He asked on a scale of 1 to 10 how much they trusted him – it varied from 5 to minus 8. He was cool with that and said it was a lot better than minus 10, we all had a nice chuckle and a bit of an engaging chat. But half the faces remained hard.

We then handed out journals, and asked them to write their first thoughts of how they felt that moment. On the first page is pasted the commitment they must sign "I believe in myself – If I fall I will get up – If I'm beaten I will return – I will never stop getting better – I will NEVER give up – EVER!" Each time they open their journal they will see their commitment. We encouraged them to write in it daily happy, sad, mad – it doesn't matter, write it.

We created teams or "posses" who would work and play and take the challenges together. Some of the activities were competition, each posse member would help, support and encourage the team. And we set out about the glorious day. First we worked, real ranches have real work, we mucked paddocks and cleaned tack. Of course at first there was a bit of confusion, hesitation but as minutes wore on teamwork and cooperation began to lighten the load, and faces. Always Michael was there to encourage and inspire, as he promised he would be. All the volunteers were, too.

The "Fall Of Faith"

The first challenge was the "Fall Of Faith." A 10 foot step ladder the girls were to step up as high as they could bear, cross their arms and fall back, trusting that the adults, and a few team members would catch them. Great fear and doubt kept anyone from being willing, but Michael reminded them, he, and all of us were there to catch them, they would never fall alone. Eventually one girl went first to great cheers! Then another and another, the cheers and encouragement got louder, funnier and soon even the most timid girl took the fall ... Several insisted on going again as they wanted to step higher up the ladder. I studied their faces, by the end of this first challenge not a single face lacked a smile, all hard faces had melted a little already. And Michael's lowest score was now minus 5.

Relaxing in the sun for lunch

Then lunch, which proved to be a circus of laughter and giggles as each girl relived their "not very scary" fall of faith. Michael drifted among them, as we sat in the sun warmed grass, and told stories about everything from his recording and TV and acting days to his first horse. Then he started roping the "straw steers" and some of the girls had short but successful lariat tossing lessons.

 

Learning about balance, trust and connection with Sandman's help

It was time to ride now, and LaRue's fine and devoted lesson horses, Donny, Sandman and Penny entered the ring. A few girls were extremely eager, a few timid, a few refused, at first. Now riding time at a "Slicker" is about much more than riding, which is done bareback. It's about discovering the spirit of the horse, learning to hear the horse and facing fears, if there are any, with the help of the horse. I gave a little talk on the connection between horses and humans while volunteers readied the girls with helmets.  First they mingled with the horses, some touched, others hugged, and finally a few rode. And with Michael's promised support and encouragement, eventually everyone rode. I noticed even the most isolated girls began to join in the fun, the posses mingled together, all helped one another. Michael's score moved up to an even zero.

Teamwork, high spirits and reaching high for a goal, the Cowboy Toothpick

For the next hour we played confidence and team and trust building games, the "Cowboy Toothpick," a 12 foot high pole and each posse collaborates to drop 3 rings over the top – it takes real teamwork to get a posse member up that high! But with effort, teamwork and plenty of cheering and laughter they got it done, together!

 

Ridin' high with new found confidence on the wild Barrel Bull (I wish I could paste here the thundering cheers of encouragement!)

The day's highlight, and most demanding and thrilling challenge, the barrel bull ride, was saved for last. Each step of the way all day is carefully orchestrated to build high spirits, self confidence and trust, and even though each participant by this time had overcome fears, and built trust, in themselves, each other, Michael and our volunteers, that high swinging barrel gave them all pause ... For about a minute. Then cries of encouragement convinced one girl to ride high, and soon everyone rode the barrel bull, laughing, screaming and loving it. Michael told them, "It only takes balance, just like life."

Ending the day with thoughts about living and loving life with self respect, courage, faith, dreams and purpose.

We ended the day back in the barn where we all talked at once, laughed about the silliness of the day and congratulated everyone on their success and spirit of going for it. I looked carefully at tired, dirty, happy faces ... not a single uninterested or hard face could be found. I got the feeling for some of them it may well have been the most fun day they could remember, perhaps ever had. Michael assured them he, and we, would always be there for them, they were never alone again, they could contact him, or us, anytime. for any reason. Michael asked them to write another entry in their journals, that they might have today to turn to, always. Michael's "trust" score had skyrocketed to 15!

Gitty Up ~ Dutch Henry

Photos by Connie Bloss and Cynthia Drew -

"My Ravishin' Robbie"

Howdy Folks,

 

Yesterday as I enjoyed my Coffee Clutch with Kessy, Saturday the chickens and wild birds, the train let go its lonesome whistle. Birds sang in the tree tops their glorious, happy tunes, calling in the struggling spring. Knowing our forecast for tomorrow was for yet another blast of cold and a bit of a wintery mix, I figured they knew it already and were making the most of this spring-like day. My mind drifted to my Ravishin' Robbie. She'd been gone four days and was coming home this evening, but I missed her so.

Ravishin' Robbie in a field of Bluebells - She loves flowers

Some fellas do just fine when their sweeties away. I'm not one of them. In nine weeks we'll be married thirty-eight marvelous years. I remember our first date. I remember her yellow dress. Golly she always looks great in yellow. We weren't on a date with each other, it was a double date and she was with the other guy. But by golly I knew I needed to get to know her better. Even if she did kinda boss me that night. That hasn't changed much over the years. I reckon that's why God matched us up; he knew I'd be a better man with her love keeping me straight.

That first double date – we were on our way home, it was after mid-night, the road was empty, I could see the lonely intersection clearly and there were no cars in sight. The light turned yellow, I said, "I'm not stopping." Robbie, who was in the back, with the other guy warned me this isn't a good light to run. She was right and I got a ticket. That's been a standing joke about the wisdom of heeding her advice. We were married six months after the speeding ticket.

Some folks say they married their best friend. Yea I figure I sure did that, and so much more. We've traveled through some mighty big adventures together, some great and some not so great, but always as a team. We had the indescribable joy of raising a fabulous daughter, who blessed us with our sweet grandbabies.

Our Grandbabies, Hannah and Ben with Saturday and Kessy on our back porch.

I'd had a pretty rough start on life, and had never known the feeling of love before I met Robbie. What she saw in this collection of oddities that is me, I'll never know. But I can still remember the feeling I got way back then just being with her; that life made sense now. I still have that feeling. With her I'm complete. I always say, "everything good I learned about life, I learned from my wife."

Thank you God, for introducing us. Thank you, Ravishin' Robbie for puttin' up with me.

If you look at the top left of our Coffee Clutch home page where I describe what I write about, you'll notice love is in there. I know what Robbie has given me is the deepest kind of love.

Gitty Up ~ Dutch Henry

Feature Friday – The National Day Of The Horse

Howdy Folks,

In November of 2004 Congress recognized the "First Official Day Of The Horse," and decreed December 13 would be so recognized from then on. The first paragraph of the decree is – "Encouraging citizens to be mindful of the contribution of horses to the economy, history, and character of the United States and expressing the sense of Congress that a National Day of the Horse should be established … Whereas the horse is a living link to the history of the United States … without horses, the economy, history, and character of the United States would be profoundly different … "

I'd like to share the opening paragraph from my story, "Horses Among Us Thank God," - "It is often said that throughout history, everywhere man has gone he has been carried upon the back of a noble horse. They've plowed our fields, carried us into and died with us in our wars, pulled our wagons and travois laden with treasured possessions to new lands and pulled our wedding carriages, too. They've run our races, herded our cattle, given explosive demonstrations of their power and agility in rodeos. They've strutted their magnificence in arenas before cheering crowds to win ribbons unimportant to them. When I think of the horse's spirit and how it has selflessly carried the spirit of man through the ages I'm awed at the nobility of them. How they have answered every call with strength, beauty and unquestioning devotion.  No matter the sacrifice." … You can read the rest of my tribute to horses HERE

Kessy, Saturday and me

Kessy and I hope you'll spend a few extra moments hugging your horse, doing a little something for horses you don't know. Or reflecting on how horses have touched, or changed your life. Or a loved one's or friend's life. 

Kessy and me

Please leave your comment on how horses' touched your life.

Horses offer their spirit, their love and their guidance to us each and every day. Today is their day, help spread the word and celebrate them!

Gitty Up ~ Kessy and Dutch Henry

Grandpop and Sportsmanship

Howdy Folks,

This is the Seventh in my series of Grandpop stories. I began writing about Grandpop, June 27, 2013, with what at the time I imagined what would be a standalone short story, "Perhaps I've Just Lived Too Long." You can read that story (and find links to go on) (HERE)   Folks said they like visiting with Grandpop, so I wrote more. Frankly, I enjoy him too. I hope you enjoy today's visit with Grandpop.

"Grandpop and Sportsmanship"

 

"Hey good to see ya, young fella," Grandpop stopped brushing ol' Blue, and waved me into the barn. I was surprised to find him in the barn. Usually on Sunday afternoons he'd take in a football game or two relaxing in his recliner drinking coffee and helping the coaches by talking to the TV screen. I'd long ago lost any serious interest in the NFL, but had to admit watching with Grandpop was still a treat I looked forward to every now and then. Thinking about it, those Sunday game gatherings had begun to dwindle in the past few years.

Kessy, Saturday & me writing a story

"No game on today?" I paused to give ol' Blue a friendly scratching on his shoulder.

Grandpop moved to Blue's tail and brushed the full length with slow, deliberate strokes. "None that interest me. I reckon things change and it's hard for an old fella to keep up."

"How's that?"

"It just doesn't seem to be the same sport anymore. Of course they say your memory lets you remember things the way you want to, and polish those memories up a bit, but it feels like the game lost some of its dignity." Grandpop paused to examine Blue's shinny tail. ""It feels hollow now, just about winning … at any cost."

I felt him study my face, well yea I thought, winning is why they practice, and show up. He must have heard my thoughts; he's good at that, because he answered me.

"Oh yea, a team's got to win, but where'd the sportsmanship go? All you hear about now is concussions, players switching teams for more money, and this thing a little while back about coaches paying players to take out the other team's players. That's not sportsmanship. It's not fun to listen to, and I think it's a foolish example for our young'ins."

"Don't you think it's more about the news folks just wanting to hype stories?" 

"They couldn't hype 'em if it wasn't going on. What I worry about is the steady drift to winning at all cost is so acceptable. I remember the first time I thought uh-oh, back a good while when an NFL coach told a reporter on the sideline after a game he does not go shake hands with the opposing coach, he wants to beat him, not be his friend. That's not sportsmanship, I thought way back then already."

"I think I remember that." I said.

"It's a busier, faster world now than we could have ever imagined and it's easy to focus on the outcome more than the journey. I worry that the young'ins might miss learning that. True sportsman has a way of teaching respect, honor and dignity. Sometimes it's good to loose, builds character. Today I think it's hard for youngsters to find good role models."

Grandpop led Blue out to his paddock and stood, leaning on him soaking up the warm sun. "We used to say 'never let the end justify the means.' Now even our government leaders seem to have turned that on its head and the teachings and beliefs seem to be, win at any cost, and the means don't matter. A body can lie, break the rules, even cheat - if they win, well then by golly it's just dandy. I'm not foolish enough to think there wasn't always some of that, but it wasn't seen as a good thing. Used to be if a fella got caught lying or cheating it ruined him, today it's excused, almost celebrated as courage, because you've got to win … Today it seems popular to insist the end justifies the means. I don't think that's good sportsmanship. I think it's backwards. And I don't think it's good for our young'ins to grow up thinking it's okay. But I'm just an ol' cowboy."

He slid the halter off ol' Blue and we moseyed to the porch for some more talk and a pot of hot black coffee. We never did watch a game that day.

Gitty Up ~ Dutch Henry