One Good Man
Bob Holmes was a “hired man” in the best sense of the word. Bob worked on our ranch from soon after the time he returned from fighting in World War II, until a few years ago when declining health forced him to move to town. Bob was of the “old school,” of a type no longer found in the West. He was a bachelor ranch hand, and if hard work will take a man to heaven, Bob is there now, looking down at all of us still hard at it.
Bob was born in this valley. His folks kept dairy cows, and the kids were up early and late, milking cows. When the war broke out, like so many others, he volunteered. He came home, worked for a neighbor for a short period, then went to work for my father, who had likewise just returned from the war. He was exactly one year younger than my Dad.
Bob Holmes
Fourth of July
He was here when I was born, and for years, I was a little frightened of his grouchy ways. No one could outwork Bob. We have a pasture called the “Mouse Pasture”, because, my father said, “Not even a mouse could escape Bob’s tight fence.”
As far as anyone knows, Bob’s one experiment with romance was the time he ran off with the ranch cook. They took off for Mexico. A few months later, Bob showed up at the breakfast table. No one asked any questions and he didn’t offer any answers. Dad said the only insight Bob ever proffered came years later when they were out feeding cattle off the hayrack. Bob said, “You know, the whole time we were in Mexico, Madeline never wore any underwear.”
He fed cattle in the winter and drove the baler in the summer. Generations of rakers lived in fear of Bob’s wrath if they did not meet his exacting standards of how a windrow should be formed. He got along best with Katie, a young Englishwoman who raked for a couple of summers. When I asked her secret, she said, “I cried.” This melted Bob’s heart enough for him to teach her how to be a perfect raker.
Bob always said that everyone gets “one good dog, one good horse, and one good team.” The dog was Stubby, the horse was Cody, and the team was Fran and Chub. They’ve all gone to the Lord, where they’re now joined by one good man.
Sheep Mountain
Carbon County, Wyoming
photo by Pat O'Toole
