Part 8

Letters came from grandfather and Uncle Gene, telling us that he was well and on the road to recovery. Then, unexpectedly, word came that grandfather was gone, already in his grave. I felt sure that if somehow I had been able to get to him to help him, that he would still be alright. My sense of personal loss was deep and hurt greatly.

To be alone one day soon afterwards I skipped school once again and began climbing the high hills above our house. Following a trail that wound in and around ever larger trees I steadily climbed toward the tallest peaks of the Pinal Mountains.

After a long climb alone up the mountain a large buck deer suddenly broke my sad and brooding mood as he bounded away in great leaps. I had seen a great many antelope on our ranch in New Mexico, but never had I seen a deer in the wild, and I was simply awed by its size, strength and beauty.

As the deer bounded away my sadness seemed to leave with it. I knew grandfather would have enjoyed seeing that deer with me, and thought to myself that maybe he was watching as I climbed the mountain and saw that beautiful buck.

No longer feeling alone, an additional climb up the trail brought me face to face with a beautiful, friendly bay horse that carried a star blaze on his forehead and three white stocking feet. We looked at each other, neither of us fearful.

I spoke to him and held out my hand. He came and touched my fingers. I put my hand on his face and he did not draw back. Patting his neck and talking to him, I knew he was pleased to see me. I wanted to ride him but did not have even a string or belt with me to use for a bridle, so I started on up the trail again as he followed along keeping me company.

I had not ridden a horse since we left our ranch. While watching the horse over my shoulder my foot tangled in a long trailing wild vine runner, and I thought to make it into a bridle so I could ride the horse. Finding still other vine runners I twisted them into a crude halter with a single rein. When I had it properly on the horses head I grabbed his mane and climbed onto his back.

He sensed I was a good rider and responded to my wishes, taking me up a long ridge trail until we entered pine forests high on the mountain. I found that I needed no rein with him. He went wherever I wanted him to go simply by the pressure of my knees against his sides.

As the steepest part of the big mountain loomed above us, a small clearing in the trees with a trickling stream of water was located. Looking back down the trail there was spread out before me a marvelous view of the town, the mine, and the smelter with its tall stack pouring out a great stream of white sulfur smoke that flowed away to the northeast.

The morning hours and early afternoon passed in that peaceful place, then I mounted the horse again and rode towards home. When we arrived at the spot where we had met on the trail I removed the halter and told him to go his way and not follow me as I hiked back home.

That day, drinking in the beauty of that quiet high mountain side solitude, was a soul refreshing experience in the wake of losing my grandfather. Finding a new horse friend, and seeing a buck deer for the first time, helped me get past the shock of knowing I would no longer have grandfather in my life as my own special person, someone who loved me unconditionally just as I loved him.

Adjusting later on to a new High School, new home, new friends and new school mates was once again an emotional experience, made more so because I was at the dramatic age of being a freshman. There is without any doubt no more confusing time in life than the teenage years, at least that was how it seemed to me, and honestly I am tempted to skip any telling of these times except that my readers might forever wonder why.

High school years for me were filled with a many exciting and satisfying events and activities, as well as with all the personal challenges and pitfalls that come as a boy grows towards manhood. Athletics played an important part of school life, with basketball my favorite sport. I also enjoyed football, baseball and track in season. Track events and baseball often conflicted, so I concentrated on baseball and ran only sprint events whenever possible.

I suppose I was odd looking at that time, neither boy or man, not very tall, yet exceptionally strong and fast for my age. Only one person, a junior, could at times beat me in a dash, even though my legs were bowed, which I guess came from growing up on horseback. My hair was natural cut, with straight cut bangs.

With a front tooth knocked out by a bad hop baseball while in grade school in New Mexico, I greeted the world with a "one tooth minus smile" for many years. Whatever athletic contests I took part in were done with intense abandon, seeking to be seen as the equal of anyone who might have been physically larger than myself. Having been dubbed "the little bulldog" years earlier because of my no holds barred approach to sports, that nick name stuck throughout my school years.

High School years passed by, and although I never considered myself as having had much to start with, I discovered there was room for a lot of growing and began to enjoy the journey more and more.

A time to develop, I think, is what the teen years are all about; socially, in knowledge, in one's physical skills, in understanding self as well as others, in learning to constructively philosophize, and in seeking to understand and make sense of the conflicts between competing religious ideas.

My senior year saw me greatly changed from the raw boned freshman I had begun High School as. Playing in the final basketball game of my High School carrier against our traditional rival school, we were competing for our state conference championship and a shot at an undefeated season. We won that contest and I was cited the following day in our local newspaper by the sports editor as a "flashing comet in a game of stars".

Making that event even more special, my High School girlfriend was in the stands cheering me on, and she remained at my side following the game. Somewhere along this growing up trail my front tooth was replaced by our town's Dentist, and at about the same time I adopted a neatly trimmed, parted in the middle hair style, all of which was a big improvement.

Each summer during High School I found work in town. One summer I worked delivering blocks of ice to homes so people could keep food and drinks cool in their iceboxes. This was before electric powered refrigerators were common. Other summers I worked in the assay department for Inspiration Copper Company, and each summer I spent two full weeks at scout camp on Tonto Creek in the mountains near Payson.

My High School years ended in 1929, the year of our nation's great economic crash. Several years of steep decline and stalemate in national economic growth followed, and many mining families, with work cut off, moved away leaving the bustling, aggressive community of Miami, Arizona at almost a complete standstill. The only work left at the mines was in maintenance, keeping equipment in shape and ready to work when copper prices rose again and production resumed.

---------------------------------------------------------

I.O.'s story continues at the following link:

http://rltdsr.blogspot.com/