The following was written by my late wife Elaine. She wrote a long book, a diary really, from which this is one passage:
Angus Cattle
Dave’s biggest project in Monroe County was studying and carrying out a plan of breeding purebred Angus cattle. His mentor was Mr. Kenneth Clark, whom Dave felt privileged to know, and who taught Dave most of what he knows about Angus cattle. I remember when we met Mr. Clark; he drove us around his place near Alderson (best described as a ranch) in one of his two Cadillacs, wearing leather gloves and a dress cowboy hat, looking like a character from TV’s Dallas. I enjoyed his tiny, sweet, wife, who always wore a Sunday dress and a long string of beads. She was a retired Library of Congress librarian. As our friendship went along, knowing I love music, she gave me a large book of Gilbert and Sullivan’s music.
Note: I was pleasantly surprised, when we first came here, about all the educated, cultured people who chose to retire in West Virginia. (The first time this happened was when we met our nearest neighbor. When we introduced ourselves, she invited us in, and on her coffee table were copies of The Smithsonian which were also on my coffee table in Warrenton. But I quit being surprised! Because: “Why not?” Where else is prettier? Where else are the people friendlier? Where else is safer? Not to mention very low taxes and low population and good medical facilities and good stores and lots of places to go and homes with long scenic views.
We’ve taken several trips to Maryland and Denver in connection with the Angus project. This story should be written up some time by Dave. We have an interesting receipt which reminds us of the occasional disappointments that come along when working with prize cattle (or any cattle). It’s from June 1981 from Greenbrier Foods, Inc., for “slaughter, $12.00,” and “processing 350 pounds of hamburger, $59.50,” necessitated when one of the bulls broke a leg.
To be continued…
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About the Author: RD Blakeslee is a nonagenarian in West Virginia who built his net worth by only investing in that which can be enjoyed during acquisition and throughout life, as opposed to papers in a drawer, like stocks and bonds. You can read more about him here.
Photos: Courtesy of the Blakeslee Family
“We’ve taken several trips to Maryland and Denver in connection with the Angus project. This story should be written up some time by Dave.”
The trips to Maryland were to continue Mr. Clark’s interaction with the Wye Angus herd there. Mr. Clark and Jamie Lingle, founder of the Wye herd, were lifelong friends an friendly competitors. They had acquired purebred Angus breeding stock together, from the best traditional Angus breeders throughout Northern Great Britain, and they often exchanged breeding stock as they built their herds.
The trips to Denver were to receive awards for the carcass quality of my Argobrite herd, built on a foundation of 5 yearling heifers and a yearling bull that Mr Clark sold me, with a few cows he sold me later.
The proof of carcass quality was byway of submission of 5 steer calves to the American Angus Association, which were fed in a feedlot out West, slaughtered when mature and graded on the rail by USDA graders.
Thanks for sharing Mr. Dave. Your description of Mr. Clark fits a lot of ranchers around here. There are more horses and cows in this county than there are people.
A Texan got a plane and sat by a man. He said, “Howdy. I’m buck. What’s your name?”.
The other man said, “My name is Joe.”.
Buck: Where do you live Joe?
Joe: I live on a ranch in California.
Buck: I live on a ranch in Texas. How big’s your spread?
Joe: Proudly said, “I have 20 acres. How big is your spread?”.
Buck: Well, if I get in my truck before daylight, and drive all day, it’ll be dark before I reach the other side.
Joe: I used to have an old truck like that too.
lol
I grew up outside the city. It was still so wild that you’d see a cow, bull or horse go down the road. You’d call out, anybody recognize it? We’ll call the owner.
You can’t go home again but if you could, I would. Little wild rabbits coming up to the back porch. Quail would too. Lots of butterflies, and so many cicadas every year. They’d get so loud that you couldn’t hear the person next to you talking. Don Williams described it well, “I can still hear the soft southern wind in the live oak trees.
Those times are long gone but the memories and love remain.
Bill, there have been changes here in Appalachia where I live, but not nearly so fast and profound as in most other places in the U.S.
The fundamental reason: Gradual population decline, over the years.
I’m happy for you that it hasn’t been drastic. You can live out your days in peace.
Amen. Foresaw that 47 years ago, when I bought my place here.