30th Year Photos/#26

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Tried and true cowboy.
Long, lean and a bit bowlegged, Clyde lived a memorable life for a red headed boy from Bryan, County Oklahoma.  He was born in 1926 to a blacksmith who was a son of a blacksmith who came to The Indian Territory by wagon in the late 1800’s.  He spoke many times of seeing his first automobile poking along the dirt road in front of the small farm he lived on.  It was even more exciting when he saw his first airplane a few years later – a barnstormer from WWI.  His favorite activities included roping and riding like the cowboys he so fervently read about over and over. Another was a days’ wagon ride away into the Boggy Bottom north of Bennington.  There he, family and friends would fish the muddy river for catfish.  They would drink coffee brewed on an open fire while playing dominoes all night long.  They were only interrupted every few hours by the “running of the trotlines” baited with crawfish seined from ponds and marshy drains on the rough ride to Boggy River. 

But things changed dramatically with the onset of WWII and off Clyde went to the Pacific theater.  He was on the ship headed for the invasion of Japan when Hiroshima ceased to exist.  So his new responsibility became rebuilding bombed airstrips and other military infrastructures.  Thus his knowledge of heavy equipment became extensive.  Returning home to Bennington to marry a beautiful daughter of the local preacher, he started working with a construction crew building bridges along the soon to be Hwy 70 across southern Oklahoma.  Then off to other parts of the state with his wife and twin daughters to build pipelines crisscrossing the countryside which afforded him the knowledge of running large cranes of numerous types.  The pay was wonderful so he purchased a plot of land back home to raise a few head of cattle overseen by his father, Jessie.  He loved his work but ached for the hills of Bryan County and wanted to raise his growing family there.  So sacrifices were eventually made and home they went to live in an airy 100 year old home pieced together over the decades by various owners, and squatters, from hand cut lumber and logs. 

Life now consisted of at least six 10 hour workdays on the ranch he personally built by clearing virgin timber from the rich Red River bottom land, Sundays at church with friends and family and a few days off here and there to fish or hunt with his two young sons and brother Wiley.  Many evenings required long school board meetings, his children’s school activities, automobile repairs, feeding and checking cattle and out-running tornados.  He was respected far and wide as a straight-shooting hardworking bold speaking kind man anyone could and would trust serving as chairman of the deacons in First Baptist Church and chairman of the school board for decades.

He was nearly impossible to beat at any game he played.  He could figure out any puzzle twice as fast as anyone else (especially the puzzles of life).  He could sing bass with the best and even picked out a song on a hammer dulcimer that won someone the National Hammer Dulcimer Contest.  He built his family a wonderful new home to return home to and gather in, which they did often.  At age 79, in his last year of battling leukemia, he helped build a pusher for a D6 dozer (picture #134) and trimmed limbs from trees with his mind set to never allow anyone to outwork him no matter his afflictions or age.  Clyde taught all his grandkids how to pull home-made taffy candy.  He could fix a color TV, ride herd on a stallion, shoot the eye of a squirrel at 100 yards and sit up with the sick or dying all night long.  He was known by his grandchildren, as well as many folks all across the United States, as Papa Cook.  He was a friend and counselor to thousands and I am honored and blessed to have been able to call him Dad. 

I’ll never forget my last conversation with Dad.  I knew he had been around the world, literally, and had accomplished and built many things so I asked him what his greatest accomplishment in life was.  Was it the huge long bridge going into downtown Tulsa or the enormous 8 foot diameter pipeline laid with record speed near Atoka or maybe the golf course he built all on his own when everyone else was laid off in the early 50’s?  He was almost aggravated by my request for he knew that I knew - he was most proud of his kids, and now their kids.  He had stuck to his guns, raising us in church becoming disciplined responsible adults in the world trying to make a difference.  He was proud we never forgot where we came from.  He always held hope we all would someday return to finish our life’s journey in Bryan County.  Well, that part is yet to come to full fruition but 3 out of 5 ain’t bad and the other two are working on it!  His most sincere desires were really for others and his life’s witness lives on years after his passing.  The bell may have already rung for his life’s bucking ride but his life of training and helping others to be all they should and could be continues to achieve a greater good years after he is gone.  What a legacy.  Good ride, Cowboy, good ride!