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Birthdays and Fat Livestock

The 16th would’ve been Dad’s 99th birthday. I’ve been thinking of him a lot this week. I always think about his words of wisdom and his love for his family, but January 16th is extra special. For the last ten or fifteen years of his life he worked with his friend Jesse at the Fort Worth Stock Show & Rodeo every year. It was an annual tradition that always kept us from celebrating his birthday until the second week of February.

Starting a week before the show opened, he would work twelve-hour days until the show was over by the second week of February. I couldn’t understand why he would work so much for close to minimum wage without a day off. That is, until I spent part of the day with him.

There are a couple of things you need to know about the Fort Worth Stock Show and Rodeo. First, it’s the oldest continuously running stock show in the United States. The formal name is the Southwest Exposition and Stock Show. It had its humble beginnings in 1896 to show the local citizens the livestock local cattlemen produced. Its stated aim was primarily educational and soon became an annual event. In 1907, the Stock Show charged admission for the first time – twenty-five cents – and in 1908 moved into the palatial Northside Coliseum in the Fort Worth Stockyards. Rodeos are still held there today on a weekly basis with kids admitted free or half-price making a fun family event.

In 1918, the first “World’s Original Indoor Rodeo” was held as a “strictly a contest” and the name “Southwest Exposition and Fat Stock Show” became the official event name. The only time the event has been cancelled was in 1943 when all America’s resources went to the war effort. In 1944 the stock show was moved to the Will Rogers Coliseum built for the Texas Centennial in 1936 where the stock show has remained (with massive infrastructure improvements) to this day. The Rodeo competition has been moved to the new Dickies Arena on the Stock Show grounds.

The year I was born, 1958, was the first year the event was televised. I don’t remember the first time my dad took me to the Stock Show and Rodeo, but it became an annual event for my dad and I. My grandmother worked as a seamstress for Mr. Wimberly, who owned the Army Store, a surplus store in downtown Fort Worth. Mr. Wimberly saw to it that we received tickets every year. He also raised, and showed, champion Appaloosa horses. Rustler Bill was a National Champion and I got to “ride” him every year. That is, I got to sit on him while Mr. Wimberly walked me through the stables. It was a young cowboy’s dream!

My childhood memories are sparse, but I always remember the Stock Show and Rodeo. The first memory was of Zippy the monkey and his Scottish Sheepdog. Zippy would ride around the arena at full speed and then stop and herd sheep. How could anyone forget a monkey cowboy?

from the FWSSR Archives

In 1969, my dad was transferred to Denver, Colorado. We tried attending the Denver National Western Stock Show, but it just wasn’t the same. We went three or four times to no avail and soon, I never went again.

Fast forward to 1986 when I moved home to Fort Worth. I was going through a divorce and had custody of my two boys, Adrian and Jeremy. My dad must have known a cure for the break-up blues because a month after we moved back our annual trips to the Stock Show began again. This time it was to establish a tradition for the boys.

My father had started working the Stock Show every year with his lifetime friend Jesse. The boys and I would walk to his little shed by the gate, talk with Dad and Jesse, and walk through the livestock barns and exhibit halls. Because the vendors used Dad’s gate, we got a lot of free food for the three-week run of the show. I’ve never had so much pizza, barbeque, and Mrs. Baird’s pastries in my life. The boys loved it. Dad would keep them supplied in sweets every Saturday for the rest of the year, at least until Jeremy told my mom about the “diet” ice cream they ate. The tradition lived on until the boys got older and my addiction kept me away from the things I always loved.

The boys went their separate ways. Jeremy became a respected artist and wasn’t much interested in the old, Fort Worth tradition. Adrian must’ve received more of the cowboy DNA because he trained cutting horses and worked a ranch for several years. Today he serves the veteran community with One Tribe Foundation.

I don’t know how many years Dad worked those four weeks in the winter each year. He and Jesse both decided to retire when they both encountered some health issues. It wasn’t long before Dad passed. I didn’t get clean and into recovery until a couple of years later. If I had not had a father that loved me like Dad, I’m not sure I would’ve even gotten clean. If Dad, a mere human could radiate love and grace as he did, how much more so could a loving God.

I tried to continue the tradition with my grandkids, but it’s been sporadic at best. They’re just not into it. I guess wanting to be a cowboy isn’t in the aspirations of their generation. Why would they? There are no John Waynes anymore, tractors aren’t sexy, and ranching (and farming) seem to be an old people thing. The average age for a farmer in Texas is sixty-two. I tell everyone I’m finally above average at something.

I attend the Stock Show and Rodeo today to honor Dad and carry on an old Fort Worth tradition. I think of him while I’m there and remember so many wonderful things from long ago. I don’t go every year – the farm and weather change my plans more than they used to. Plus, crowds are getting harder to deal with as I’ve gotten older. Quite frankly, the crowds aren’t the same. Stock show attendance reaches record crowds almost every year. A lot of folks have moved to Fort Worth over the last few years, and they don’t always feel the tradition like native Fort Worthians do.

I also love to go with Ms. Opal to the Cowboys of Color Rodeo. In 2001, Jim Austin founded the National Multicultural Western Heritage Museum in the historic stockyards. In 2010, Fort Worth finally got around to honoring and recognizing the rich heritage of the Black and Brown community to both the city and the West by holding the first Cowboys of Color Rodeo. Ms. Opal has shared a history of Fort Worth I was never taught in my all-white schools. I’m thrilled to learn a history so rich that I might’ve missed had it not been for my work with her and Unity Unlimited. Inc. I hope to share the same with others. Full history brings us to reconciliation and justice.

Birthdays, Community, Family, Gifts, Grandchildren, Gratitude, Growing Up, History, Horses, Pandemics, Relationships, Role Models, Stories, Texas, Thoughts From the Porch, Writing

Thanks Dad…

Today would have been my dad’s 96th birthday. I found my biological father earlier this year and learned from his obituary that he died on January 16th, 2021. Hmm. One man was the most loving, selfless man I’ve ever known. The other didn’t even know I existed. I haven’t even tried to contact the half-sister I apparently have in southeast Texas. I think it’s better that way. Besides, I have a whole new family to get to know up in Kentucky.

I miss Dad this morning (my real or “adopted” father for clarification). When he retired from the railroad (early retirement at 57 and 40 years of service!) he stayed home for a couple of months and found retirement lacking many of the things he loved (Plus Mom couldn’t stand having him around the house all day). People for one, work another. So, he went to work for another ten years for a local developer and construction company.

He agreed to go back to work with the understanding that he would take a month off every January into February to work the Fort Worth Stock Show and Rodeo (FWSSR). He and one of his oldest friends, Jesse, worked security at the vendor’s and exhibitor’s gate. They’d go to work the week before the show started and work twelve hours a day, seven days a week, and for minimum wage, until the stock show was over. For one month he was no longer a Human Resources professional for a big firm in East Fort Worth – he was the guy in the Stetson hat that greeted you at the entrance.

Dad loved the Stock Show. It was a constant stream of people in and out and he knew them all. He used to bring huge amounts of food from the bakers, caterers, and food vendors for the show. I don’t think Mom had to go to the grocery store for a month! We never celebrated his birthday until the show was over, but he never minded. He was always the happiest working the FWSSR.

The FWSSR or “the Stock Show” as it’s more commonly called, began in 1896. The Southwest Exposition and Livestock Show (formal name) is longest running stock show in the country. It’s always been a big deal here in Fort Worth. I know few Fort Worth natives that haven’t been to the FWSSR. If attendance records are any indicator, even the new transplants to Fort Worth come in droves. I’m not sure if Dad would’ve liked that. He was the man who had one bumper sticker his entire life and it read: “If you love New York take I-30 East”. He was a bit “Texophobic”…

When I was young, the Stock Show was the highlight of the year. The Fort Worth schools even gave a day off for students to attend. We went every year to tour the livestock barns (especially the horses), the exhibit halls, and the show arenas. Dad would get us tickets to the Saturday matinee rodeo. Paradise was three weeks long on an annual basis. Attending the Stock Show was one of my first (and happiest) memories.

 My Grandmother was a seamstress for “The Army Store” downtown (they sold army surplus and work clothes – I could wander the store for hours!). Her boss, Mr. Wimberly, owned champion Appaloosa Horses he both would show and race. His top show horse, Rustler Bill, pulled in awards from the stock show (and nationally I might add) every year. He was a beautiful horse and I wanted more than anything to ride him.

My father and I walked to the horse barns to look for Mr. Wimberly. I stared at this incredible stallion ignoring the conversation between Dad and Mr. Wimberly. My trance was broken by Mr. Wimberly. “Do you want to ride him son?” If I had died that moment, I would have died the happiest kid on Earth. I almost yelled “of course” and he helped me up onto the horse’s back. Handing me the reins, he said to walk him around the barn. I walked him slow so I could stay on him longer.

from the Rustler Bill website

It’s been fifty-plus years since that day. I continued to make the FWSSR every year until the boys grew bigger. They weren’t interested in the cows, horse, and other livestock anymore. They’d grown out of it they said (My oldest son worked training cutting horses for a few years though). I took the grandkids several times, but they too, have lost interest as they’ve grown.

As for me, Opal’s Farm and family keep me busy. I never seem to have the time. I don’t do large crowds well anymore, especially during the pandemic. I thought about going this afternoon It’s tradition after all, but I’d rather have my memories than current experience. It’s just not the same if Dad’s not there…

A bit of Irony…

I mentioned learning of my biological father this past summer. According to the information and the obituary I found, he was quite the cowboy. He coached a local high school rodeo team in steer wrestling and team roping. He was a member of the Professional Rodeo Cowboys Association Gold Card member, Original Team Roping Association, and the Texas Rodeo Association. The irony of his passing on January 16th isn’t lost on me. Could it be genetics…