SSR Pit Crew
Join Date: Dec 2007
Location: Picayune, MS
2005 Two Tone Jet Black&Chrome Auto
They were made of tougher stuff"
My dad was born in Indian Territory (Oklahoma) in 1888. When he was 14 he left home and began "breaking" horses for his living. When he was 18, a cow turned in front of his horse, the horse ran over the cow, fell and rolled over my dad, sticking his shiny saddle horn thru his leg just above the knee. The horse got up and "ran away" with my dad hanging upside down on the saddle horn. He pulled himself up, got his leg off the saddle horn, turned loose, fell to the ground from the running horse, tied his leg off with his belt and crawled five miles to the ranch house.
His uncle loaded him in a wagon and carried him 18 miles to Comanche, Ok, the closest doctor. His uncle stood over him with a shotgun to keep the doctor from cutting his leg off, said he would rather see him dead than one legged. Two weeks later my dad took the rifle scabbard from his saddle and cut the bottom off so his crutch would fit in it. And climbed on his horse using the crutch for support. He used that crutch for five years.
Much tougher than his son.
I love retirement, my cell phone rang last month, I didn't answer it.