A Bull And A Sunflower……

This week a trooper from my old outfit, The Missouri State Highway Patrol, was featured on national television for a Herculean feat of strength. A large, round bale of hay was centered in a lane of one of our highways, and needed to be relocated to the shoulder. After some consideration, Trooper Isaiah Lemasters leaned into this bale, tipped it up and off the roadway. He did this by relying on personal leg strength and, presumably, youth. I could have done that in my day, however; I would have had to shove the damned thing off the road with my cruiser. His amazing performance was captured on his dash cam, a sequence his grand-kids will view with amazement in the years to come. Officers like Lemasters are why the word “sir” was invented!

My career with the Patrol involved field training four new officers, fresh out of the academy. Three went on to very successful careers while one fell on health related hard times and left the patrol prematurely. I benefitted from these experiences as much as the new guys, as their eagerness and energy was always refreshing. Most of my road career was in a rural environment, where you became one with the agricultural industry. This leads to a story involving another amazing feat on a hot late summer morning when my cub and I were dispatched to a cow on a roadway in Cass County. The cow was easy to find, as she was actually a 1500 pound Angus bull whose olfactory capabilities had led him to tear down a worn stretch of fencing to pursue a receptive cow standing behind a fence on the other side of the road. With an uncharacteristic hint of cruelty, I dispatched my cub to chase the bull back into his pasture, and sat back in air conditioned comfort to watch his mastery of the situation. The bull eyed him carefully, with snot slinging contempt, and stood his ground as my cub waved his arms and extolled the bull to go where he belonged. The bull was not impressed. My cub grabbed a sunflower from the fence row, stripped the leaves off and smacked the bull across the hindquarters as he offered a blood oath to turn him into hamburger if he didn’t get his ample ass back where he belonged. I should have intervened, but was paralyzed with laughter from the front seat of the cruiser. The bull eyed my cub with contempt and, I swear, a touch of respect, knowing full well he could launch the officer into the stratosphere. Incredibly after the third whack across his hindquarters, the bull turned and trotted into his pasture. The cub patched up the fence and returned to the car, hot but satisfied he had met my expectations. After wiping the tears of laughter from my cheeks, I explained to my cub he had just defied death and undoubtedly used one of his proverbial nine lives. This officer went on to become a fine officer with a distinguished career.

I should note that it had not been long before this, while quail hunting with my Sergeant, that I knocked a bird down which fell into a pasture ringed by an electric fence. My Sergeant dispatched me to get the bird, necessitating crawling under the hot wire. I sauntered over and picked up the bird, oblivious to another Angus bull standing in this pasture. The bull took exception to my trespassing and came after me. There was no sauntering as I ran for my life and was nearly electrocuted in the fence as I escaped the bull. My old Sergeant is smiling as I tell this story, from his chair in Heaven, where old Sergeants go for eternity.

So it is on this early spring morning. Recollections brought to light by the efforts of a superbly conditioned officer pushing a thousand pound bale of hay, all in a days work. God bless you Isaiah, and God bless every officer out there. Each of you will have your stories to tell as you go about lending dignity to a country that needs all the dignity we can muster.

Have a great week!

SR