Tag: Father's Day

How My Dad Became a Real Cowboy
Dad · family · Holidays · My Thoughts

How My Dad Became a Real Cowboy

Larada Horner-MillerLeave a comment
My Cowboy Dad
My Cowboy Dad

Because it’s June, I want to share more about Dad. Father’s Day is coming next Sunday, so I’m still celebrating him. His family transplanted from Tulsa, Oklahoma to Branson, Colorado because of my his health.

Dad Immediately Loved It!

Dad & Aunt Helen on their horse in 1927
Aunt Helen on their horse with Dad in 1927
Dad on a different horse in 1930
Dad on a different horse in 1930
Dad & Aunt Helen dressed to ride
Dad & Aunt Helen dressed to ride

Somehow very soon, Granddad bought Dad and Aunt Helen a horse and Dad’s life was changed forever more. They moved in April 1927 and they had their first horse by May 1927. He never told any stories of a horse in Oklahoma. They lived in the city, so I don’t think it wasn’t possible.

He quickly learned to ride, and any time my grandparents needed to find him, they just looked for him and his horse. Because he was a natural, horseback riding became his major hobby.

He attended Branson school and graduated there in 1937. I loved to hear his stories about tricks and antics they pulled on the superintendent and other students. Somehow a car ended up on the roof. They turned over many outhouses, and were surprised if someone was in it then.

It was a carefree life.

The Horner Ranch Started

Granddad as mail carrier in blizzard in 1930 - Dad
Granddad as mail carrier in blizzard in 1930

My grandparents, dad and aunt arrived in Colorado in 1927. Granddad immediately realized he had an edge on the other ranchers in the area because he had a job working for the post office, delivery mail to the ranchers east of town. He started buying land and cattle in 1927. Granddad wheeled and dealt with the bank for loans and worried about increasing his debt. Also, he dealt with other ranchers in the area who were building their ranches too.

When the depression hit in 1929, Granddad’s postal job really helped him buy up land and pay off the loans he accrued. And Dad enjoyed every minute of the ranching life Granddad provided for him.

World War II & Being a 4-F

Horses, ranching and cattle became Dad’s life. After he graduated, he went to work with Granddad on the ranch he had put together, and he worked it for the rest of his life.

When World War II hit, Dad stayed home while many of his friends went to fight the war. He rated a 4-F because of his health—the asthma.  When he shared these stories, he had shame about it, but he found a way to serve. He did day labor on ranches around the area whose sons went to war.

Dad loved to work on Louden ranch, east of Branson, near Mesa de Maya. He had hilarious stories about working there and having lunch with Dick and Zita Louden. I think his presence helped them with the ranch work, but it also diverted their worries away from their sons being gone.

Dad told stories about going to Trinidad, Las Animas County seat, to get tires for the ranch truck. They rationed the tires, so he had to be wise about what he did. The man ahead of him in line told the judge he needed four tires and the judge said that was excessive, so he shooed him out of the courthouse. Dad listened and asked for two and got two. He thought he was pretty smart learning from the other man’s greed.

Dad’s First Marriage

He married Nell Williams from Walsenburg, Colorado. They lived in a house near our ranch’s headquarters. They had three children but divorced in 1946. During this time, he grew his herd but lost half of it with the divorce.

Dad spent five years single but having his children as often as possible. Nell moved to Denver, so they were 250 miles away. Around this time, his sister divorced, so he stepped in helped with her two sons.

In fact, I was visiting with her eldest son today, and he said, “Your dad, Granddad and Grandma raised me because Mom was too busy.”

Dad ventured out in his cattle buying during these and some years he did well and others he lost money.

Life Changed for Dad

So in 1949, life changed for Dad. He met my mom at a dance and he was smitten. She had eyed his dance moves and wanted to dance with him but worried she couldn’t keep up. One night he sauntered across the dance floor to a group of young ladies. Mom hoped he chose her, but she wasn’t sure.

He did, and they became a couple.

One night they had plans to go to the Crystal Lounge in Raton, New Mexico and dance. The owner knew Mom was underage, so he threw them out. Apparently, she hadn’t been truthful with Dad about her age. Dad stayed away for a year until she turned 21 and. . .

Finally,

Yes, my dad became a real cowboy—he smelled of sweat, leather and manure. I’ll keep the story going next week with what happened with my parents.

For more of my dad’s story and how my Granddad put our ranch together during the depression, check out my book I co-created with Dad and Mom, Let Me Tell You a Story. It’s available as paperback, e-book and audiobook format.

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My Dad, Harold Horner!
Audiobooks · family · My Thoughts · Ranching

My Dad, Harold Horner!

Larada Horner-Miller1 Comment
My Dad, Harold Horner on Rusty
My Dad, Harold Horner, on Rusty

Meet my dad, Harold Horner, this Father’s Day, 2024. He was a lifelong cowboy who loved his a job dearly. Also Dad loved to dance! Here are two of my poems about Dad in written format and in audio format from my new audiobook, This Tumbleweed Landed.

Dad’s Special Move on the Dance Floor

Dancing with my dad at his 75 birthday party!
No one did it his way!
He slithered into the next move 
with a step like no one else, graceful and fun. 

He said he got drunk one night, stumbled, 
liked how it felt,
and decided to keep it. 

I wish one of his male offspring had learned it; 
one of his dancers, Bub or Wade, 
but it’s gone now—with Dad. I dream about it— 
the illusive move that felt so good and united me with him. 

Mom and I can do it!
But it just was not the same.
 It was his move!

Larada Horner, This Tumbleweed Landed, (Horner Publishing Company, 2014), 21.

Listen to the audio of this poem:

Memories of the Ranch

East of Branson, 
one-half mile starts 
the Horner ranch! 

My granddad put it together 
in the late 1920s— 
quite a feat during the Depression. 

Granddad and Dad worked side by side. 
Many years of 
a teamwork so instinctual 
words were not needed. 

Dad gave it his life, 
a life full of 
potential bodily harm
and deep, deep joy and satisfaction. 

Warmhearted memories abound... 
memories of our land, horses, cattle. 

Time three generations spent together: 
My granddad, 
my dad,
and Sue, Bub, and me.

Larada Horner, This Tumbleweed Landed, (Horner Publishing Company, 2014), 65-66.

Listen to the audio of this poem:

Finally,

Last week I shared a story about a watermelon rind fight from my new audiobook. This week I wanted to feature poems I wrote about my dad, celebrating Father’s Day. When I remember Dad, I smell leather and sweat. I see a man who wore a long-sleeved western shirt, jeans and boots every day out to the ranch. In the summer, Dad wore a straw cowboy hat; in the winter, he wore a felt cowboy hat. He prided himself on old-fashion morals and standards: be honest, a handshake was as good as a contract and family came first, above all else.

Because he had asthma, during World War II he had a 4F rating and couldn’t volunteer or enlist. So he helped the different ranchers in the area who had sons who went to fight. He shared many stories about the Dick Louden ranch and the fun he had there—it was his favorite!

He absolutely loved his life!

Dad died January 6, 1996—that date altered my life forever. When Father’s Day comes up every year, nostalgia sets in and I remember Dad. These poems share some of my heartfelt memories and feelings! Many people romanticize cowboys—I actually lived with one and saw who he really was—my hero!

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Grab When Will Papa Get Home? this week for $.99 until June 20 on Amazon. A great after-Father’s Day gift!

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How Many Fathers Does It Take?
family · My Thoughts

How Many Fathers Does It Take?

Larada Horner-Miller4 Comments
Fathers
Uncle Tanky is third from the left, top row.

Happy Father’s Day, a day to celebrate father figures in my life and all they have done for me. The famous African proverb “It takes a village to raise a child” rings true. Being raised in a small country community, I had several influential men in my life besides my dad. As I pondered this idea, I realized the men were quieter influences than the women I identified in my Mother’s Day blog post. They still affirmed who I was and showed by example how to live life.

Millard Warner

Millard was Dad’s best friend from high school. We lived next door to each other until Millard’s death, and he influenced my life with his quiet demeanor and steady presence. We did lots of activities as families and he truly was a second father to me. After his divorce, he ate meals with us regularly. I remember his quiet sense of humor and constant interest in my life, even as a youngster.

Reu Waldroup

Reu was another friend of Dad’s and a continual influence on me. Another quiet man, I had to listen closely to his soft voice because I never wanted to miss his wonderful tales about his ranching experiences or shenanigans he and Dad got into in school. I saw deep love and acceptance in his eyes for me.

Mr. Teague

Mr. Teague taught my eighth grade English class with enthusiasm and a desire to challenge us. His assignments captivated my interest: I wrote a Matt Helm story following that series that was so popular in the late 60s. He had us group-write a play at his kitchen table with his help. I remember our outrageous junior high humor he didn’t curb at all. We performed the play at the monthly PTA meeting and felt successful as playwrights. I’m sure his adventuresome assignments ignited the writer within me, so I’m indebted to him for sure.

He also had a very playful nature. During one of our winter snowstorms, he attached a car hood to the back of his Jeep and used it as a massive sled, pulling us around our little town. We had a ball that day, slipping and sliding over town. After getting more daring, he went out of town towards Trinchera with Billy Mitchell alone on the sled. When we came down the hill by Warner’s stock tank, the sled slid back and forth across the road, and Billy almost crashed into the rock guard covering the culvert. What a memorable day we had with a teacher who loved his students.

My Three Uncles

Throughout my life, I had uncles who touched me deeply. Uncle Gay, who lived in Washington state, always had time for me when they visited each summer, even though he had many other nieces and nephews to attend to. He always had time for me.

Uncle Tanky lived near me my whole life, and I had many interactions with him until he died. When I was in high school, he saw an essay I wrote and questioned me about my choice of studies at Trinidad State Junior College. He lovingly called me “Rada” which I thoroughly enjoyed.

Uncle Hughie entertained me my whole life with his fun-loving sense-of-humor. He lost a leg in a mining accident when he was eighteen and lived with a prosthesis, enjoying a normal life, dancing and doing activities like he had two good legs. Because my dad wasn’t a fisher, he taught me how to fish, and I spent many an hour with him beside a lake, waiting for a fish to bite and enjoying his tales.

My Grandfathers

Granddad Horner lived across town and was a daily father figure for me. Although he was withdrawn and quiet, he lavished me with affection because I resembled his beloved mother, Mattie Jessie. I worked with him on the family ranch and witnessed his dedication to the land, his cattle, and his family. He loved to get his family together, celebrating each one of his grandchildren.

Granddad Dickerson didn’t live close to us, but Mom made sure we saw them often. Granddad Dickerson was exactly opposite of my other granddad. He loved to wrestle on the floor and tickle us to death. He loved his grandchildren dearly, and I saw that lived out.

Don Ming

Don, another friend of Dad’s, helped me so much after Mom died. Whenever I needed his advice or help on what to do on our ranch; he stepped up. His affirming nature made me believe my brother and I could manage our family ranch and do a good job.

My Father

Dad & me dancing - Fathers
Dad & Me Dancing at his 75 birthday party, Branson, CO 1993

Finally, my dear dad, a real live cowboy! Dad loved his family, his wife, and his ranch. He was always available for a hug and a kiss. He called me “Shorty,” and I loved that. I relished the hours we spent together on the ranch, either working cattle, preparing our 4-H horses for the county fair, or just riding around enjoying the land.

Because I lived fairly close to my folks for my adult life, I had the pleasure of multiple trips around Colorado, California and the Southwest with Dad and Mom, and he was always up for an adventure.

I inherited his love for dancing, and anytime I’m on the dance floor, I can feel him near, encouraging me to pursue the hobby we both love.

Any time we were together, Dad entertained us with multiple stories about growing up, school life, cowboy life, and just life. I always drew near, hanging on each word, even though I had heard the tale many times before. He told his story with such exuberance; I felt I was there—a true storyteller!

He was always there for me, supporting me emotionally through my divorces, multiple moves, and any crises that came up.

Finally,

I know the importance of father figures in a child’s life, especially little girls, for our dads are the first men we fall in love with. I realized I was fortunate to have a dad who also loved me deeply. On this special day, I celebrate my dad and all the father figures who touched me deeply, helping to create the woman I became.

So, how many fathers does it take to raise a child? As you can see, many father figures played an important part in my complete life. Did you have other father figures in your life? If so, who were they and what did they do? (Scroll down a little farther below to make comments!)

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