“I’ve always depended on the kindness of strangers.”

— From “A Streetcar Named Desire”

by Tennessee Williams



“You gals OK?” That was the 2 a.m. text from Jenny Casey.

Our ranch rodeo was in Vernon, Texas, Saturday. A great facility and a good time. Really humid from the time we got there, with dark clouds all around.

Several of us had intended to camp after the rodeo.

My friend Alyssa Bigon, a member of the Pyramid Cattle Company team, is from Woodward. With the miracle of technology, after the rodeo we began looking at weather radar on smart phones. A little before midnight, we saw the map with Woodward right in the path of the tornado.

Scott and Alyssa decided to head for home. They knew the storm would be over before they arrived, but they wanted to see if their home, barns and livestock would still be on the ground. It turned out they were, but the trailer park where three were killed is only a couple of miles from their house.

The Hook R team planned to stay with us, but after deciding the storm would pass over Vernon, they hit the road.

Dusti Crace and Jane Barker, two other members of the Pyramid team, had gone to find a motel room.

My team, my brother, and Cattle Kate’s husband, Howdy, had already set up camp. Our horses were loose on the grounds enjoying good grass. We were sitting around the kerosene lantern telling stories and having a great time. Howdy had already found a spot for his bed roll and had opened it.

Kelsey looked at the radar again.

“Guys, the storm is going to pass right over us.”

About that time, Dusti and Jane returned.

“You all better get somewhere,” Dusti said.

We were the only campers left.

The indoor arena was very nice and the end with the roping boxes extended a long way with open space.

“Why can’t we just take horses and all to the arena?” I asked.

So we did. All the horses were turned into the arena with plenty of room to move, run, roll or just stand around. Both rigs were pulled right into the building.

We had lights and restrooms with hot water.

“This is better than that motel we had in Lubbock,” Keith said.

We were all settled in when I got Jenny’s text. She is a member of the 7L team. They started home after the rodeo. Two members live in Oklahoma, two in Kansas.

“You all might want to get a radio or something. This weather is really bad,” Jenny texted.

“We are inside and snug as a bug,” I typed. “Where are you?”

“Hunkered down in Hinton, Okla.”

 I had visions of the team sitting on the side of the road with horses in the trailer. That can be very bad if it hails.

“Where are your horses?” I asked.

“Some folks let us put our horses in their dairy barn.”

There it is. The kindness of strangers.

No one said a thing to us, either, even though we’d taken over the rodeo arena. Some people came and went. They knew we were in there. They left us alone to weather the storm. Which we did in style.

The storm hit Vernon about 4 a.m. We just watched from our dry and cozy barn. The ceiling was insulated, so the horses never twitched an ear, even though the thunder and lightning was loud.

Some power-hungry committee member could have made us leave the arena, charged us a ridiculous price to stay there, or locked us out. As it was, we were left with the run of the place. And evidently, because of some kind strangers, the 7L horses were safe in a concrete block dairy barn.

Sometimes, you DO have to depend on the kindness of strangers. There are still some around.