A good man might just be remembered as a great man.
I've met Buster. Shook his hand. Hunted his place and took a few deer there.
I call his stepson a friend.
Buster is rough around the edges. Those edges run deep. They won't smooth easy. But the core is solid.
He's a Texan.
Have a look.
Looking back, was fortunate to have been able to bridge that time in Texas, with the memories of more than a few true horseman.
Many who grew up when a horse was not only a main means of transportation, but in many cases a necessity of survival; a time when a man was often judged by the horse he relied on, and the way he "sat" a horse.
Knew many like that; including Dad, who's favorite saying, often uttered when looking over his horse herd:
"There's something about the outside of a horse that's good for the inside of a man."
Another true horseman, who was still astride at 90: RIP
Y'all ever run across Ronnie Nettles, around Madison County?
Family friend who could put helluva handle on a horse, including being a top tier cutting horse trainer (and a daredevil crop duster).
My uncle had a cutting horse that all you had to do was let her know which one and go with her. She could turn on a dime and give you back 9 cents. On the flip side you could put a child on her and turn them loose. A child could not make that horse go over a walk. An adult that thought they knew how to ride was hilarious. She would wait and see your skill level, but don't kick her. That told her "he knows what he is doing" and full throttle is abt 3-4 steps away. Most never made it past the second step. She would stop and look around at the guy sitting on the ground with a look that said, "Whatcha doing there, you said go?"
I remember my first ride on a cutting horse across a pasture. I bounced a bit too much. Horse went left, I kept going straight. Horse came over to me and stood there. They are amazing animals.