|My parents divorced when I was two. My father living in Oklahoma and I
was living with my mother in Pennsylvania. But my journey was already
set. Since as long as I could physcialy remember I wanted to be a cowboy. We were
poor, unbeknownst to me as a child as it didn’t matter, but I’d run
around in my mother’s old cowboy boots pretending to be a cowboy. I’d draw (something I
still do today) horses and cowboys. I’d day dream. I’d even put a dozen
bikes out into a large field and pretend it was my herd of cattle.
Though my parents were divorced they still worked together to make sure I
got to spend time with both my mother and my father. When I was five
years old my mother agreed I should spend the summers with my father in
Oklahoma for a month. As a kid growing up this was a dream come true.
He’d get me a horse or pony each year. We’d go to horse sales, Longhorn
sales, roping and rodeos. It was a utopia for any little boy who wanted
to be a cowboy.
Summer 1998 I remember a conversation with my father about Ben Gravett and
how he was trying to get my dad to move to Virginia to manage G&G Longhorns. I
was excited about it, he’d be a lot closer to me if he did. I met Ben
that summer in Bastrop, TX at a sale. That fall my father took the job
and moved east.
Over the next four years I’d spend spring break, Christmas break, and
the summers in Virginia working under my father. I loved
it. I was just drawn to the longhorns. Something about that burned deep
within me. I got to do most work farm kids do, fix fence, muck stalls,
cube cows, count cows, weed eat, clean trailers, count cows, get Poisoin Ivy, count more cows. I loved every second of
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