Woods & Water by Dick Herfindahl

As I sit here writing this column, the sun is shining and the temperatures are predicted to be in the 40’s, but alas, in a couple of days the temps will once again plunge into the low to mid 30’s for a high. If you have ever seen the movie “Groundhog Day” this is kind of what this spring reminds me of. That’s my whine for the week, so onward and upward.

As I look back to my early years of existence, I can vaguely remember my Grandma Winjum, but I do remember my Grandpa Turbin spending some time with me. He would occasionally watch me while my mother went to town to shop or pay bills.

One of those times still sticks out in my mind. While me and my grandpa were hanging out, he decided to let me have a treat. He opened up the “ice box,” which it was called back then, and took out the bacon and proceeded to strip off a piece of it and hand it to me. I’d guess to him this must have been a real treat and one that he wanted to share with his grandson. When my mother came home and discovered that we had been into the bacon she scolded grandpa for feeding me raw bacon.

One of my earliest memories was when my dad gave me a pony, which must have made him proud because he’d always had horses and now he was sharing his love for horses with me. I know that I wasn’t very old when he had me sitting on a horse.

Although I liked my pony, I wasn’t overly excited about it and I was in fact, more excited about my first dog which was named Inky. I am sure my dad must have been a little disappointed when I didn’t share his enthusiasm for horses as I grew older. It wasn’t that I didn’t ride horses from time to time, it was more that I just enjoyed doing other outdoors activities more.

We hadn’t lived in our house on Bridge Avenue very long when my uncle Orv gave my dad the old milk house from the farm. The original barn had burned down, so when he built a new one he didn’t need the old milk house anymore. I can vaguely remember when the barn burned down, but I do remember that they charged the hired hand with intentionally starting the fire.

My dad made that milk house into a nice two stall horse barn complete with a tack room and a place to store his hay. The horses had a fenced in yard to exercise in just behind our house. We kept two horses at our place and they were both registered American Saddlebreds. One was my dad’s, which was named Champion (after Gene Autry’s horse) and mom’s was named Easter Ann. He eventually sold mom’s horse to pay the hospital bill after my sister Judy was born.

Although I can’t remember how long we kept the horses at our place, dad eventually moved the remaining horse to a barn that he had rented. I always loved playing cowboys as a kid, but not so much the riding part. I’d guess you could have labeled me the “horseless cowboy.”

Over the years that covered my childhood, I spent countless hours with my dad as he went to the barn to feed and hang out with his horses. I’d always found it kind of fun to be able to spend time with him as he fed, groomed and talked to the horses. He would tell me stories about different horses and of how folks that mistreated horses shouldn’t be allowed to own them. He taught me a lot of his little secrets about gaining a horse’s’ trust, the right way to enter a stall and that you should always talk to a horse before approaching it.

I think that his favorite horse was probably Pedro. He was a Tennessee Walker that dad had bought at the sales barn for very little money. The reason he was so cheap was that he had been beaten by the previous owner and was very skittish and didn’t like anyone coming close to him.  I believe that dad took that as a challenge and it didn’t take long for him to gain his trust, and eventually Pedro would let him go into the stall with him. One night my dad showed me how he had gotten Pedro to let him groom his tail without even flinching.

Although I never had that kind of patience for horses, I did ride horse and even liked it to some extent. I did have a few bad experiences over the years, which resulted in me laying on my back in a ditch. I always got back on and kept going.   

In looking back, I think it was kind of sad that I didn’t have my dad’s enthusiasm for riding nor his patience, but I do know that I really enjoyed those cold winter nights hanging out at the barn with him and the horses.

Please take some time to honor those who have sacrificed so much for the freedoms we enjoy today. Also, take some time to remember those who made the ultimate sacrifice, those who served and those troops serving today.