On New Hope Road, near the north end where it meets with Williams Highway there is a small farm, perhaps 7 acres. It is the home of Dan and Betty and they conduct a small operation of horse training for pleasure and western riders and their respective horses. I had known Betty since high school, she was the friend of a woman whose son I had gone to school with. A wise woman, in her own country way and with a modest Native American ethnicity. Dan was a slim, slow talking country gentleman with a knack for "whispering" horses, even the ones that had issues.
It was early spring of 1989 when I rolled into their driveway in a brash and unkempt 1967 Nissan Patrol. It had bad brakes and the rod-knocking engine smoked profusely but you could remove the top and doors, and that made it the cowboy dream that I wanted. My hair was wavy and down to my shoulders and I sported a full beard and mustache along with the tan boots and crumpled cowboy hat. Grizzly Adams meets Kenny Chesney, for the love of God.
Stopping by to visit was a weekly or monthly event that consisted of drinking coffee and shooting the bull, with me drooling over horses I might never afford. Dan and Betty had hired me the year before to build a deck from the main house. It happened on this particular day that Betty had a message for me. They had a new client, some "rich Californians" had boarded a Tennessee Walker there, wanting the horse and their daughter trained. They were also in the market for a carpenter to build a stable and tack room for the horse. Betty made sure to get me the phone number, they were out in Rogue River.
I had married the year before. A lovely-but- disturbed woman named Allison who took up residency on the sofa upon our arrival from the wedding. Years later she confessed that she had built up the concept of marriage to the degree that she actually had no idea what to do after achieving that goal. Child rearing was out of the question as she had already had a hysterectomy prior to our meeting. She had an eight year old girl from a previous marriage, Suzie, who remains my daughter to this day. I was the only income earner for the house, getting by on my $7 to $10 per hour.
And it was in this context that I drove out to meet with the patriarch of this "wealthy" family, past Rogue River, up into the hills north of Wimer to a point on East Evans Creek Road that was not far at all from the 160 ranch my father had grown up on. I rolled down the dirt road that serviced this home and several others and into the driveway of a grand, Northwest Architectural home. It was a home well outside the economic classes of anyone I knew, with clear redwood siding and massive redwood deck over-looking Evans Creek and landscaping beyond anything I knew of homeowners work. I met with a deliberate and well groomed man who took me from the house out to the location he had selected. He wanted the stable attached to the existing vehicle and storage building. It would need a foundation attached, the roof would be just so, the tack room will be in that corner, there should be water lines to here, yes insulated, and we can pull the electrical from over there. I Ieft with my measurements and notes. I planned, drew and mulled it over and after a week, I called.
I gave him the numbers, secretly anguishing over the cost. He didn't hesitate, "When do you want to start?"
A week later I was ready and called ahead. I was instructed to head out to the house, knock on the door and let the family know. So back up that driveway I went, parking in the circle drive near the front door. I knocked. I heard thump-thump-thump, someone coming down the stairs. The door opened and there was this girl with huge boobs and a whiskey grin. She didn't say anything, she just grinned at me, holding the door with her right hand. She was early 20's, was that gray in her black hair? Her eyes were brown, deep brown. Was she slightly cross eyed? There's something odd about that one eye. She keeps grinning. One of her front teeth is slightly turned. "Hi. I'm Dave. I'm here to build your barn." She kept grinning. "I'm married." (Did I just actually say that out loud?!) "Okay! I'll be right out!", and she slammed the door. Thump-thump-thump, back up the stairs. I stared at the door for a bit. I had tools to unload. I didn't want to start the Nissan back up, she'd see it smoke. Maybe if I moved it before she got back,...(she has freckles),..I should get started,..(I can't keep staring at her chest, that would be bad,..). Thump-thump-thump,..(crap, she's back). "Did dad tell you where we were going to put it?" (Had she changed her shirt?) "Yeah, out at the tractor shed?" (Is that perfume now? And why is she still grinning?) "I'll meet you out there."
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