To protect his privacy, I'll call him Robert.
I met him through a mutual acquaintance while hunting for antelope recently in the Oklahoma Panhandle. Dustin Trammell, a fellow antelope hunter from Tulsa, gave me Robert's cell number and said he might let me hunt antelope on his ranch.
"He doesn't answer his phone, but he's pretty good about returning calls," Trammell said. "He doesn't hear very well, so you'll probably have to yell."
Robert did return my call and said I was welcome to hunt his ranch. He wouldn't be there, he said, because he was going "to town" to get a Stage IV melanoma removed.
"I'm a Stage III rectal cancer survivor," I said. "If it's OK with you, I'll pray for you."
"It makes me happy to know you're a prayin' man," Robert said. "I would appreciate that very much."
Robert and I met for breakfast the next morning at the Bluebonnet Cafe in Boise City, Okla. He's 83 years old and has lived in western Cimarron County for all of them. He has broken more bones than Evel Knievel. He's broken some of them twice. Ranch life is dangerous. Horses have fallen on top of him and cattle abuse him routinely.
"But I'm never happier than when I'm sittin' on a horse," Mr. Robert said. "When I get to worryin' over something, I'll ride out on a horse, and all my cares disappear."
A Gideon, Mr. Robert has shared the Gospel of Jesus Christ throughout Central and South America. He told me about his brothers and sisters, his children and grandchildren. He told me about life on a hardscrabble ranch that can support only one cow per 40 or so acres.
"When I was out on your place yesterday, I topped that big rise that looks south," I said. "That land just seemed to roll on forever, and the sky was so broad and blue. I shut the truck off, rolled down the windows so I could hear the wind roar and tried to imagine what it looked like to people coming across in wagons."
Robert smiled broadly.
"It used to be you could only raise cattle out here, but then they learned the could irrigate it and grow just about anything," Mr. Robert said.
The effect on the land has been dramatic, and not good.
"It breaks my heart every time they break up another patch of grass," Robert said. "They've about drained the aquifer. There used to be a lot of water out here. We had a lot of what they call playa lakes. There mostly gone now."
"I crossed the Beaver River on the way out to your place," I said. "It doesn't look like there's been any water in it in a very long time."
"There hasn't been. The Cimarron River is the same way," Robert said, a faint trace of a tear forming in the corner of his eye.
"Heck, you probably need to get hunting," he said after a wistful silence.
"Antelope will be there or they won't," I said. "I'd rather visit with you for awhile."
That suited Robert just fine, and we knocked back a heroic amount of coffee. That ended when Robert's wife arrived.
"Don't get up," she said, but she was pleased when I did. She was doubly pleased that I doffed my cap for her. Our waitress came by with her coffee pot and tilted it over Robert's cup. Without saying a word, Mrs. Robert covered the top of his cup with her hand.
The waitress silently moved the pot to my cup.
"I've had enough," I said.
"Well, I guess we need to get going," Robert said, mildly annoyed.
Encountering no antelope at the ranch, I left to spy on a doe at another farm that had vexed me for two days. Robert was in his front yard moving some boards, shuffling along with obvious difficulty.
"Can I help you with some of your chores?" I asked.
"Naw, you need to tend to gettin' yourself an antelope," Robert said. "I'm just piddlin' around here."
Before I left, Robert and his wife invited me inside and made me a glass of the sweetest tea that ever touched my lips. It was more like hummingbird food. One sip was all I could manage. We talked a long time about family and faith before I took my leave.
"I won't be back," I said, "but I appreciate you for your hospitality and friendship."
"If you're ever back in this country and there's room in the bunkhouse, you're welcome to stay," they both said.
I didn't get an antelope, but I got something much better.