My brother and I took my dad in to see my sister in the detention center for felony DUI. We met a Deputy coming out that knew my brother and I, but hadn’t met my father. After the introduction, my dad wouldn’t let go of the deputy’s hand and asked “How do I get ahold of that Godammed sheriff.

The deputy was a bit off guard and asked just what he wanted with the sheriff.

“I loaned a worthless son of a bitch some money and he won’t pay me back. I have tried calling the sheriff and he won’t return my calls.” The deputy told him to get ahold of another deputy that handled those affairs and my dad told him he was tired of chasing the law around to help him with his problem.

“I have half a mind to get my gun and shoot that son of a bitch and he won’t take anyone else’s money.”

The deputy warned him, that wouldn’t turn out well and my dad told him;

“I don’t give a good Goddamm if that a$$hole was sitting in the fuggin sheriff’s lap, I ought to just shoot that son of a bitch and he won’t steal again. What are you going to do? Put me in jail for the rest of my life? I’m in my 88th year, what have I got left, 2 years or less?”

Leaving the deputy was a bit uncomfortable, but he understood what my father was saying.

He was born on a homestead in eastern Montana in 1910, lived through a depression, fought in a world war and asked for nothing in return. He meant what he said and the world would be a better place if it was run by cowboys.

He died in 2004 at the age of 94 and 18 years later I wish he was still around for his crystal clear view of what is right and wrong.

RIP Jesse…


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