After being introduced, I stepped up to the microphone and addressed the audience. “It is so nice to see all of you all here this morning. It’s not often that I get to speak to anyone about my early life! Here’s a story I think you’ll like.”
“I think I had just turned sixteen. I was visiting on my great uncle’s family farm. I had already stayed longer than I wanted. I was supposed to get the cows into their meadow and bring them back at evening for milking.”
”As a teenager, perhaps I thought I was smarter than adults and had a plan to save myself a number of footsteps. Instead of heading to the regular route, the long way west, I had a better idea. I headed east to a place I liked to go to relax, wade and read paperbacks. My trail was a narrow cut that had a small stream coming down that formed a nice pool where I often waded barefoot or I sat underneath an old apple tree and read dog-eared paperbacks.
“I saddled the barn horse Susie then went into the barn and loosened all the cows’ ropes. Approaching Daisy, a pretty little light brown cow who had come into the herd recently, I released her rope but she wouldn’t come out of the barn. The other cows were patiently waiting as I went to release her. She would not gather with the others despite sweet words and an alfalfa treat. The other cows were easy to herd up my choice of trails with the guidance of Trey, the barn dog. I tied Daisy’s rope again and went to take the others up. They were easy.
Trey and I came back to take Difficult Daisy up the stream. I took down the rope and with a short wooden limb I’d picked up off the trail, I got the cow out of the barn and somewhat on the trail. Difficult Daisy was thick-headed and making the trip more difficult. Seeing some resistance, I went back to the apple tree and found a longer and stronger limb, just to get her in “touch” with the concept.
The cow soon learned what the limb was for but wasn’t appreciating the lesson. We made it into the stream which was running faster than I remembered. We moved quite a way up the hill. Since I figured we had almost reached the top I gave the cow a sharp twitch to complete the walk. The cow reacted and told me my error in planning by kicking back at my knee; I gave the loudest yell I’ve ever given as it connected. She wasn’t as close as she thought so it was only a piercing pain, not a broken bone.
Then I heard a bull bellow just over the top of the hill to let everyone know he was not happy. I looked up at the bull; he looked larger than I could ever imagine and came charging down the stream.
I gave Daisy a loud command and a hard whack on the rear. She spoke loudly and kicked back again but I’d learned my lesson. The bull charged even faster than I ever expected, resulting in the loudest scream I had ever made. Trey ran through our legs, jumped up to catch the bull’s lip and hung on for dear life! Even though I thought the trail was too small to turn around in, the bull sprang up and fled up the hill to God knows where with Trey on his face!
Trey came back and, now Docile Daisy went up the hill and into the pasture with the other cows and was eating quietly when I returned to the barn to put up the horse. As my great-uncle Manny praised me and my skill with farm animals, I thanked him and apologized, saying, “I enjoyed my visit, but I have already decided to become a priest.” I went home shortly thereafter.
This incident did happen. The truth was that Frank was going up the draw with the horse and the farm dog, the name of whom I don’t have. Frank was on a horse going up the draw to bring the cows home from the meadow. The bull was real and he did jump up and around as Trey latched onto his lip. It happened on the family ranch in the Black Hills of South Dakota.
He did enter a monastery and leave, have crappy jobs, decided to become a priest and worked all over Idaho. After a good long time as a priest, he retired. He bought a Mini Wini and drove around the West to visit family. My parents, Rita and Ike and family lived in Tacoma. Father Frank came to visit us often because he was in the Seminary in Redmond.
My mother Rita was the youngest in the Hebert family. Sister Aileen, Bill and family, lived in Haily Idaho. Aunt Aileen was just a year older than Rita. Rita skipped second grade and was in Aileen’s class. Aileen would do her math and she would do the other writing for assignments. They did get found out. Camilla, the eldest in the family, and husband Mark and family lived in Heppner, Oregon. Aunt Margaret and Whitey and family lived in Vallejo, California. Maggie was the second oldest after Camilla. Frank was the middle child between the four sisters and he said he did suffer.
The Hebert name is a French Catholic name from their father Albert Immanuel Hebert who immigrated, or at least came over the border from Canada. Their mother was Mary Conway, of a second-generation Irish family living in Chicago.
Father Frank went to visit all of them and especially enjoyed going to Yuma, Arizona, each winter. Rita and Ike went to Yuma several times as well as Aileen and Bill who bought a place and went for the winter. Hailey is a skiing mecca. They all enjoyed the warm weather and the comfort of family around.
