Blogs

Charles Marvin Kester Jr. was a tall, larger-than-life Texas rancher raising cattle and row crops. This man-of-few words lived his life a few miles south of the Red River near Odell, a small town in west Texas. Whenever he stood in your doorway in his Stetson hat, Levis, and cowboy boots, he filled the space. Little light could squeeze around him. He gave the impression, “Don’t mess with this Texan.” 

Shortly after Monty and I married, I discovered how strong Charley was physically. He took the family to eat at a Friday Fish Fry in a small west Texas town. Monty’s brother, still in high school, wanted to see if now he was stronger than his older brother. He kept prodding Monty to see which one of them could score highest on a machine in the corner of the restaurant. You had to squeeze something that would test your grip strength. A semicircle dial showed the power of your grip by how far the needle rotated on the scale. If you had a super-strong handgrip, it spun the pointer across the entire semicircle and rang a bell. The two muscular brothers kept trying to ring the bell, but neither succeeded. Meanwhile, Charley paid for the meal and sauntered over by the boys.

“Let me show you what a man can do,” he said as he casually reached over and grabbed the grip. With a quick flip of his wrist, the bell rang. Turning on his heels, Stetson firmly planted on his head, he strolled out to his vehicle as the rest of us stood in stunned silence.

Charley had a special love for horses. During the early years of his marriage (the 1930s), he had to limit himself to teaching his horse, Ole Denver, all sorts of tricks. Denver could bow to people after performing some of his tricks—like untying a handkerchief tied around his leg, stealing something out of Charley’s back pocket, or nudging Charley along with his head against his back when Charley acted like he was drunk and couldn’t walk on his own.

In the 1940s, when Charley could afford more time and energy on his horse hobby, various ranchers periodically got together to race their horses and bet on them. His young son, Monty, got shanghaied into being the jockey for Charley’s racehorse. However, the “horse bug” never bit Monty, like it did his brother. As Monty became too big to be a jockey for his dad, he moved on to other things like football, basketball, and track.

Later Charley and his wife, Ida, began going to Quarter Horse Races and the All American Futurity at Ruidoso Downs in the scenic Sacramento Mountains of southern New Mexico. He and five Texas friends decided to buy themselves an outstanding racehorse. They researched bloodlines and put their collective heads together regarding what they had learned about horses. At one of the Ruidoso auctions, they bought the quarter horse, Bunny Bid.

They chose a Quarter horse that is bred for its fast burst of speed straight out of the gate on a short track, instead of a Thoroughbred that starts slowly but can win longer races since they don’t slow over time.

The American Quarter horse is a specific breed of horse that is perhaps best known for its speed over short distances. Initially they raced a quarter of a mile or less—hence the name. This breed is originally American and began in Virginia shortly after Jamestown was established in 1607. Its characteristics include limited white markings on the face and below the knees, heavy muscling in its short, stocky build, and a mellow personality. This breed has also been found to make an excellent working horse on cattle ranches. It is a superior show horse in rodeo events, such as barrel racing, where its exceptional agility and bouts of speed enable excellent performances.

After their quarter horse purchase, Charley and his friends armed themselves with a horse trainer and lots of dreams. They began their exciting journey of training a world-class racing quarter horse named Bunny Bid. In an April 15, 1972 issue of The Quarter Racing Record magazine, it stated Bunny Bid was the 1971 Champion Racing Stallion and 1971 Champion Three-Year-Old Colt. He was the first Quarter Horse to earn over $100,000 in two consecutive seasons with a record of 23-lifetime starts (16 wins, six seconds, and one fifth—which included three track records). It further stated in 1972, Bunny Bid had a stud fee of $1,000.

Although Charley’s love of horses served him well with Bunny Bid, I think the best horse story about him is another one. It goes back to Ole Denver, the horse he taught so many tricks. Those two were best buddies. One day back in the 1930s, Charley rode Ole Denver to the store in Odell. Yes, Charley may have had a vehicle, but what respectable Texas rancher drives when he has a horse? He tied Ole Denver to the hitching post and went into the store. Since this was before telephones and before many cars had made their way to west Texas, it meant many things had to be done in person since you couldn’t call on the phone. Charley finished his business in town and returned to where his horse had been tied. But Ole Denver got tired of waiting out in that hot west Texas sun and simply untied himself and returned home—leaving Charley to walk that hot, dusty road back home.

I still chuckle every time I think of this story, probably because it reminds me that my actions and decisions really can have unexpected consequences at a later date.