By Lois Marie Guymer
Special to the Progress
I have one outstanding, lasting memory of the summer just before I was about to begin first grade. Back then, we didn’t watch much television. In fact, we only got one channel and the show selections weren’t that great, with one exception – Bonanza! We watched it every week, and as a child it felt to me like Ben, Adam, Hoss, and Little Joe were almost a part of our family. Therefore, it is easy to understand what is about to follow. For the first time (I believe) Jacksonville was going to have a rodeo. And not just any old ordinary rodeo either. No sir, the Jacksonville Tops in Texas Rodeo was going to have a guest star for four glorious nights – Little Joe Cartwright was coming to town! I’m sure the tickets must have gone like hotcakes, for I still remember Mama commenting on how there were four nights of “standing room only” crowds. Times were hard back then, but somehow my folks managed to scare up enough money for a couple of tickets, and since we were small, we could sit on their laps.
The week of the rodeo, Daddy traded a bushel basket of tomatoes to some store owner for a new shirt for my brother and a set of pedal-pushers and blouse for me. With new flip-flops, we were all set for the big event! Mama even managed to get me to sit still long enough for a home perm to make my straight hair very curly for the occasion. Eventually the big night came and after standing in a long, long line for tickets, we made our way high into the stands and took our seats. Since I was little, I really don’t remember much about the rodeo itself, but it seems like there was also a lady entertainer who sang. But what I do remember was the way Little Joe came riding around the arena trying to touch the two million hands reaching through the fence toward him! Finally, after his part of the show was over, he exited to the back side of the grounds for a picture taking session with interested fans. And were they ever! Shortly thereafter my parents hustled us down the stands and in that general direction, but we still had to stand in line for hours before making it to the front. Later it was said that people were there every night until two or three in the morning taking pictures! Anyway, by the time our turn came my brother and I were pretty sleepy, but not to the point that we weren’t in awe over Little Joe. My parents said that he was extremely nice and patient with everyone, helping little kids up on the box next to him and smiling broadly for each snapshot. Quickly our picture was snapped, we were lifted down, and after getting the Polaroid, Papa and Mama got us in tow and began threading their way back through the sea of humanity still waiting a turn. Papa had me by the hand and Mama had my brother, or so they thought. There were so many people in the crowd that it was hard for them to stay up with each other. Eventually, by the time they were almost back to our old pickup, they realized that both were hanging on to me, and my little brother was nowhere to be seen. Talk about being upset! Terrified that they had lost him, Papa left Mama and me in the truck and began a frantic search. Backtracking, he made it all the way to the picture booth where they’d started from. Little Joe still stood in the same spot, posing for photos. But right behind him, on a slightly higher shelf just out of camera range, perched my brother!
Apparently he had been left behind, right there. Knowing someone was bound to comeback looking for a little lost boy, Little Joe had set him up high enough for everyone to see. Papa said that for a sleepy four year old, he seemed mighty content to be there. And why not, for after all, Little Joe was no stranger to us! As he made his way up, Papa noticed that after each picture, Little Joe would turn around, pat my brother on the knee, and reassure him that someone would be back to get him soon. And I’m sure it was with a mighty sigh of relief and a huge “thank-you” that Papa did just that.
Though all that happened in the long ago, my brother never seemed to have any lasting ill affects from being forgotten. In fact, just the opposite is true – to this day, he still loves to be up in front of a crowd! And today, the picture from that memorable night is framed and hanging on the wall to serve as a reminder of our grand adventure. Now, as July approaches, my husband and I are looking forward to once again attending the Jacksonville Tops in Texas Rodeo. This year we plan to take our grandkids and enjoy a night of clowns, cowboys, and some good Christian country music. And hopefully, the biggest thrills will come from the broncs and bulls inside the arena, and not from misplacing any of our six grandbabies! See ya’ll there, pardners!
