Oct
It was a quiet night on the ranch. Stella Barker sat alone in her rocker by the fire watching a rerun of Giant on television. Her husband Max had gone to Oklahoma City for the night hoping to buy a few new bulls at an auction that evening. They’d raised rodeo bulls for over ten years and had acquired a reputation for having some of the best rodeo bulls in the country.
She was startled at the sound of the telephone ringing; she answered hoping that it would be Max letting her know that he’d arrived safely in The City. Instead she listened to a stranger’s voice on the other end of the line excitedly explain that the nearby prison was looking for someone who owned rodeo bulls so their prisoner’s could ride to prepare for their entry in the McAlester Oklahoma Prison Rodeo.
She said, “Please slow down, I’m not understanding what it is you want.” The caller repeated, “We’ve got inmates entered in the prison rodeo at McAlester, and we’re wondering if you have any bulls on your ranch that they could practice on?”
Giving it some thought, she replied, “Yes, I suppose so, but only if you can bring them here to ride. I’m not interested in transporting bulls to the prison.”
The caller said, “That’s not a problem, we’d like to bring them over every Wednesday afternoon for the next five weeks so they can get on some practice bulls.”
She thought why not? Bull-riding prisoners couldn’t be any worse than the ruthless bull riders I deal with around here! Stella said, “Bring them over. It’ll help us both out by training our young bulls and by giving your prisoner’s the practice they need.” She hung up the phone hoping that she’d made a good decision.
She tried calling Max on his cell phone and in his room at the Biltmore, but there was no answer. He’d said that he was meeting his old high school chum Rex Morrison for dinner. She was disappointed that he wasn’t available to hear the news. However, his reaction the next morning confirmed that she’d done the right thing.
He said, “That’s great news. The bulls definitely need some outs. It will help us train the new bulls I bought at the auction last night.”
For the next several weeks the prisoners came to their ranch to ride the bulls. Stella enjoyed being at the arena to see them ride.
The armed prison guard released the chains around the shackled prisoners’ ankles only briefly to allow them the freedom to climb into the chutes to straddle the bulls. The prisoners’ hands remained in long chains as they wrapped the bull ropes around their wrists and as soon as they were thrown to the ground the guard was there to re-shackle their ankles so they couldn’t run.
The prisoners had no fear, climbing on one bull after another. It appeared difficult for the prisoner bull riders to hold their hand high in the air with the heavy chains wrapped around their wrists. The prison cowboys spurred the bulls with wild abandonment whooping and hollering, hanging on for the eight-second ride.
Max was pleased that the new bulls had their outs and he was happy with the way they’d bucked. The weeks went by fast and soon the prisoners stopped coming to the ranch to ride their bulls. She assumed that they’d gone to McAlester but she never heard how well they’d ridden.
Life got back to normal at the ranch. The drifter bull riders continued to show up to get on the bulls; and the training Max provided gave the bulls the stamina and fortitude it took to be nominated by the fans and cowboys to perform at the NFR in Las Vegas.
As she got on with her life, she sometimes remembered the look on the prisoner’s faces as they rode one bull after another. She wasn’t aware of the crimes they’d committed or of the terms of their sentences, yet she’d formed a positive opinion of the men she’d watched ride the bulls. She’d thanked them for their efforts and wished them well, saying, “I’m proud of you. You got on you some pretty tough bulls. Good luck at McAlester! I’ll never forget you.”