The definition of a good neighbor
When you look at the roots of the word neighbor, it literally means “near dweller.” And my “near-dwellers” are a pretty good bunch.
One of our neighbors unexpectedly saddled up and headed for the country “on the other side of the river” a few days ago. The recollections of how Duane embodied the definition of what it means to be a good neighbor have been coming thick and fast.
One of the first things I noticed about Duane was how he still built bucker stacks, just like my dad used to. And he fed hay with a team. In the race for bigger and better and faster and fancier, Duane was not anywhere near the lead. He was one of the ones who kept these old-fashioned skills alive.
Handling a team was not his only horsemanship skill. One of the first stories I heard about Duane was how he built a special shoe for a mare who cut her tendon, which enabled her to heal up and become sound again. More recently, I heard how he once trimmed a whole pen of Johnny Holloway’s roughstock – accidentally. Over the years, he was often the neighbor who showed up to help us gather the government pasture in the fall, snow or sunshine, it did not matter.
Duane was also adept at running big machinery: hauling gravel, fixing dams, or, on one occasion, helping us fish a trailer load of hay out of the river. Ice had formed sufficiently to cross, so my husband was hauling bales home, but then things changed, and halfway across the river, the trailer went through the ice. It was one of those situations that looked impossible, but Duane showed up with a CAT. Three ranchers, two kids, and a lot of chain later, everything was safely ashore and no bales even got wet. I have photographic evidence to prove it.
Help went back and forth, and many times my kids came home from Duane’s with some stories to tell. “That Hereford cow…” “I’ve never been so cold in my life.” Or that one time they had to rope and shear a feral llama… You will have to ask them for the details, but it was safe to say it was often an adventure.
As my kids grew older, it became possible for me to go along to help at the neighbors’ brandings a little more often. And since I like taking pictures, I usually packed along my camera. One spring, Duane told me, “Don’t take pictures of any ugly cows.” If you didn’t know him, you wouldn’t know he was teasing, but by then, I knew that a good ribbing was exactly what to expect from Duane.
A few years ago, a nasty Polar Vortex brought 50-plus mile per hour winds, -65 degree windchills, and drove our cows through fences and down the road and across the country. When the storm finally passed, there was Duane with his tractor, helping lead them back where they belonged.
How do you define a good neighbor? When I first moved to this community, my then-fiancé told me, “You will like the neighbors. They are good people. A little rough around the edges, but good people.”
I have recalled those words on dozens of occasions in the years since, always with a bit of a smile. Duane certainly fit that description, and he will definitely be missed when it’s time to run the branding irons this spring.
