(Harold Venro Deborde)
Born May 24,1901 in Cove.
(My mothers father.)
Dear Jason,
(Mar 1978)
The snow use to get about 9 feet deep up on the summit. So after the snow went off below, the ranchers would bring a lot of extra horses and break a trail across the summit. They would run their cattle through to the other side where there would be green pasture. I helped once and that cured me.
Dear Jason,
(Sep 1978)
Big Gypsy caravans would come in and camp below Cove in the trees. Men would trade for anything. They were sharp traders. The women would come up town with their long dresses full of pockets. Most stores wouldn\rquote t let them inside. They were afraid they would fill their pockets with loot.
Dear Jason,
(Apr 1977)
I was walking on the hill you see behind the house when the bull took after me. I ducked and he missed then I grabbed him by his tail. Every time he tried to turn around I would kick him in the face or ribs. He then run strait down the hill. I hung on to his tail and run to. I was afraid to let loose. He came to the fence and turned. I let loose and rolled under the barbed wire. That fence sure looked good to me.
Dear Jason,
(Apr 1977)
When I was your age I was home alone and decided to take a horseback ride. I got the horse out and climbed on him. Then I met my cousin and thought I would let him ride behind me. Well the horse began to buck and snort. I hung on and rode him, but he threw my cousin off so high that he came down and broke his arm. The old horse and me went bucking off down the road. He was a buckskin and his name was Johnny.
Dear Jason,
(Apr 1977)
See the fence in front of the house. When I was our age I set a post full of nails in front of it. Then I put a pole across in to the fence. Then I rode bareback and made my horse jump it. Every time she jumped it, I would raise it higher. After she got tired of it she would run around the end of it. In later years, you Uncle Charles learned to ride on her when he was 3 years old. She lived to be 33 years old. Her name was Bird.
Dear Jason,
(May 1977)
When I was your age my Father bought me my first riding outfit. Chaps, spurs, saddle and a pretty Chestnut horse with white face and feet and a ? mane. They had parades in those days and he liked music. When the band played he would strut like he was something special and I guess he was. His name was Ned.
Dear Jason,
(Sep 1978)
Another bunch of friendly Indians came along. They lost their horses too. So one took Grandpa up behind him. Grandpa said that was the wildest ride he ever took. They caught and killed the Indians and everyone got their horses back. But they had cut the ? of one of his horses. But he got alright and so Grandpa hooked up and started on to Oregon all by himself}
