A real keepsake came home with me after visiting with my parents at Thanksgiving. I brought home the cattle brand that my grandfather had made when he bought his first steers and pastured them on his new ranch land. I think I was about 10 years old when he bought 10 acres of land in the San Joaquin Valley of California. The land had 2 sides fenced. I remember spending several days laying out barbed wire fencing, helping to dig fence post holes and stretching wire to secure the fence. I'm sure I was more in the way than anything else, but I hope I helped a little. I remember helping my grandfather build a small pump house with a side room. We stayed in that side room many times while he, (and I) built a barn and then laid out a foundation for a house. He found a house on a nearby military base that needed to be moved. He bought it and had the foundation poured. I still remember the day the house came. I would run out to the intersection every few minutes and look for a house coming down the street. Finally, I saw it off in a distance. I house coming right down the middle of the street. Power lines had been moved and there was a truck in front with flashing lights. This was the most exciting thing I had ever experienced. Finally the house got to our ranch. After a lot of finagling, many "stay back"s from my grandfather, pushing and tugging, the last support came out, the men and their trucks left and the house was sitting on it's new foundation. What an experience.
We had many great times out at that ranch. My grandpa bought a few steers and we went to a shop to have a brand made. He picked the Bar NR as the name for the ranch. His name was Nemias Ruybalid. Just like an old West movie, we heated up the branding iron, walked over to the steer that had been roped into submission, and burned the "Bar NR" into it's hind side. He would raise them, butcher some for meat, and sell others. We went to auctions to both buy and sell. It was a wonderful time for me, and my hero. I learned how to drive my grandfather's F-100 truck out in the pasture, shot his .22, picked asparagus in the canal, helped flood the pasture to irrigate and a tons of other fun things for a kid my age. My grandfather's plan was to retire at age 65 and move from San Jose to the ranch. Wouldn't that have been grand. But, sometimes life doesn't turn out like you think it will. Before he was able to retire he got cancer, and died when I was 15. There are days when I still cry when I think about it. In fact, I'm crying right now as I type this...
I have a spot picked out on my office wall for the Bar NR. I'm going to make a wooden stand for it, clean it up and hang it there, right next to a picture I have of my grandfather's congregation in San Jose. Then every once in a while I'll lean back in my chair, close my eyes and relive some great moments at the Bar NR.
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