By W. Craig Burrell
Norwich England
Dad told me, that as a boy in Norwich England, he was fascinated with big draft horses. However, there and then owning a horse was only dream stuff. His steed was his trusty bicycle. If you couldn’t get to a place by bicycle, it wasn’t worth traveling to. If you couldn’t carry something on a bicycle, it wasn’t worth transporting.
My grandfather, Alfred Burrell, loved animals. He raised chickens and rabbits. Even though he raised them to provide food for the family, he couldn’t bear to slaughter them himself. He had to recruit the services of a neighbor for the dreadful task. Grandfather also raised canaries and sold them. He continued his animal husbandry projects when he moved to Salt Lake. In his large backyard on Eighth East he had chicken coops and rabbit pens. In the house he had a room full of canary cages that he designed and built himself. He was a meticulous husbandman. The cages were always clean, and the animals were fed on a rigid schedule. I don’t recall ever meeting anyone that was gentler with animals than him. I watched him many times when he would gently catch one of the small yellow birds to trim its toenails. The bird would show very little fear as it was held carefully in his secure hands.
Dad learned to care for animals from his father. As a boy, he raised pigeons. He learned to build coops that were sturdy and pleasant for the birds. He learned to clean the coops regularly and to check food and water twice a day. Having something to love and care for became part of his life.
Horse Fever
After Dad moved to Salt Lake, he lived up on the avenues. He had a lot of good friends, and some of these friends introduced him to horses. They would often take excursions to the Sweeten ranch in Holbrook, Idaho. Colin Sweeten, who lived on the ranch in Holbrook, told me about one of Dad’s experiences as he learned how to ride. Dad mounted the horse a little awkwardly, since he had a camera and other paraphernalia hanging from one shoulder. He finally settled into the saddle and moved out. As he gained more confidence and felt that he had control of the horse, he urged it to go faster. The motion of the horse caused him to lose control of his camera and equipment. When he focused his attention on the camera problem, he lost his seat in the saddle and found himself in the road. Dad endured his lessons with humility and good humor. Eventually, he learned how to ride.
Suntan Stables was a riding academy situated in the Cottonwood area on Vine Street (6100 South) just west of Highland Drive. The word academy probably adds too much class to the place. The most conspicuous structure at the location was a large shabby barn with a dance hall in the loft. There was also a riding arena and, of course, off to the side, a small beer joint. Sam McHenry, the proprietor of the establishment, made most of his income by renting out horses by the hour. One fine day in the year of 1940, Wilf Burrell, recently converted equestrian, and his lovely fiancé, Kathryn Hardy, traveled south to the Suntan Stables. They rented a couple of horses that seemed suitable for their needs and rode east following a gravel road (now 6200 South) towards Cottonwood canyon. When the horses felt tired and Wilf started to feel a bit sore, they turned back to the West. At about 2300 East, Kathryn’s horse detected the smell of home. (I don’t know if it was the manure or the beer.) It set its jaw against the bit and lit into a run. Wilf tried to catch Kathryn, but he wasn’t Tom Mix and his horse wasn’t Tony. The horses, sweaty and breathing heavily, finally stopped at the hitching rail in front of the shabby barn. The riders were still in the saddle, one terribly frightened-the other concerned.
This experience was an turning point for Wilfred and Kathryn. From that time on, Kathryn never was comfortable on the back of a horse. However, Dad did not have the same reaction. He was ready to get on and ride again. This reaction confirms that he had been smitten with horse fever. It was definitely a chronic case, and it would plague him for the rest of his life. Naive little Kathryn did not know what she was getting into. She did not understand that she would spend the rest of her life nursing him through this illness.
Jigs
An apartment is not an ideal place to raise a puppy. Nevertheless, not long after Mom and Dad were married they surrendered to the temptation of getting a puppy. Jigs could never stand still and was not well suited to apartment life. It wasn’t long until Jigs had a notion that the kitchen should be redecorated. The first things to go were the curtains.
Jigs, an English Pointer, loved to hunt and was full of energy. He became a special playmate for Kaylene and me. I pretended that he was a pinto horse and took Kaylene’s dolls for rides on him on makeshift saddles. For this reason, we may consider him the first horse owned by the family. In 1949, while we lived on Thornton Avenue, one of our neighbors took a dislike to Jigs. He mixed ground glass in hamburger and fed the lethal meal to the dog when it came to his yard for a visit. Jigs died a horrible painful death. It was the first tragedy I can remember in our family. As I write about it, I can still feel some of the pain that I felt then.
Horse Trading
Twelve West Broadway was the address of Burrell Jewelry. Dad purchased the lease on the store shortly after he emigrated from England in 1937. The business was a success and provided a good living for our family. Dad was an excellent watchmaker and an excellent salesman. People came back to the store because Dad was a superior craftsman who cared about his customers. Mom, the less visible member of the team, was the bookkeeper. Her conservative nature insured that the business never went into the red. Mom only spent one day of the week at the store. Most the time, she was available to visit and feed us peanut butter sandwiches when we arrived home from school.
Dad always liked to make trades. In the store he sometimes accumulated merchandise other than watches and jewelry. Sometimes he would have things like guns and binoculars. One day in the fall of 1950, a man took a liking to a pair of binoculars that Dad had in the store. The man suggested a trade and told Dad that he had the perfect thing for the approaching hunting season- something to pack a deer on. Dad had always wanted a horse. He and his friend Ken Hardy had just purchased adjoining one acre lots in the Cottonwood area. Perhaps a horse trade was feasible. Arrangements were made for our family to view the merchandise.
Horses were cheap in 1950, and I’m not sure that old Pet was worth a pair of binoculars. I wonder now if she was named pet because she was destined to become pet food. Yes, she was gentle. This was mostly due to advanced age. She was too old and tired to be anything but gentle. I can only guess what the mare had been in her prime, however, in the fall of 1950 she was an old, thin, sway backed, bay mare. Nevertheless, in the eyes of a certain 6 year old boy she was Trigger, Champ, Silver and Topper all rolled into one. The decision was an easy one. Dad handed the man the binoculars, and our family took possession of Pet.
For the first winter, Pet was pastured in Lehi on the farm of Clarence Bushman, one of Dad’s good customers. It wasn’t long until Ken Hardy purchased a horse. Bonnie, a red dun, was not quite as old as Pet, but she was genuinely gentle. In the early spring of 1951, both horses were moved to the Cottonwood property. People were less pretentious back then. Today when a person purchases an acre or more in the country they refer to the acreage as a ranch, a ranchette or even an estate. We always referred to our country property as ‘The Lot.’ Dad and Ken took turns feeding the horses during the week. Every Saturday afternoon, we made an excursion to the lot. The first saddle Dad purchased was an old McClellan. The stirrups were adjustable to any length. We took turns riding or being led around on the horse. Between rides, we adjusted stirrups.
Can you imagine purchasing a horse with both color and gait for $65? In April of 1951, Dad bought a red and white tobiano paint mare named Lonnie. She was 14 hands 2 inches tall, was well broke and had a single-foot gait. When we brought her home, we found out that she had two tricks. She would shake hands by lifting up her right front leg. Tapping her on the shoulder was the cue for this trick. Most of the time, however, she performed this trick without a cue. Her other trick was to kick with her hind feet. She performed this trick while a rider was in the saddle. To cue her, the rider would slap her with the reins- first on one side and then on the other.
In May there was water in the Brown and Sanford ditch, and we started to take irrigation turns. Early one morning on the eight of May, Dad had a surprise when he went out to the lot to set the water. Pet had a little bay foal at her side. I can remember Mom taking Kaylene, Charlie and me out to see the new arrival. Kaylene was more excited about it than Christmas morning. (Now, that is real excitement!) Mom said that since the little filly was born on a May day, we should call her Mayday. Considering how many times she needed help during the first year of her life, Mayday was a very appropriate name. Mayday contracted Navel Ill, and her mother didn’t have much milk. One time she fell in a hole, and Dad had to help her out. She had leg and joint problems, and sometimes she would get down and couldn’t get up. Dad rigged a sling to help her up. For a long time, Dad kept her in old cinder block barn with the saddles and tack. I can remember going in with Dad to feed and doctor her. I recall that Dad had to doctor her eyes, and we fed her Calf Manna. The veterinarian cautioned Dad that, since the Navel Ill had settled in her hocks, she would probably develop bone spavin. He suggested that it would be best to put her down. However, we all loved Mayday and were convinced that she would be a useful horse some day.
After Mayday was born Pet was more ornery that usual. We halter broke the foal by leading it behind its mother. Dad would lead Pet. She had a tendency to nip and bite. One day in late summer, Pet bit Dad a good one on the chest. I’m sure that the bite would have done more damage to a woman. Nevertheless, it was real painful for Dad and somewhat embarrassing. Since the mare wasn’t giving much milk, Dad decided to wean the foal and sell the mare. He sold her for $20 to Jim Stanley at the Lazy Bar Ranch.
When mustangers ran horses out on the West Desert, they would often come home with colts. One Saturday in the spring of 1952, when we went out to the lot, we noticed that our neighbor, Howard Martin, had two yearlings: a bay and a sorrel. He explained that they had been caught by mustangers, and he had bought them cheap. Before long, Dad and Ken Hardy traded Howard out of the bay. Ken’s boy, Richard, took a shine to him and named him Rex.
The next summer Dad and I started to break Mayday. We didn’t really know what to do, but we had a book and a lot of free advice. We started by ground driving her. After a while, Dad would put the army saddle on her and lead her around with me in the saddle. It wasn't long until he would lead me on Mayday while he rode another horse. Mayday was only a year old and was not very big, however, I was a very skinny eight year old and was not much of a burden.
More Horse Trading
The Lazy Bar Ranch was a similar establishment to Suntan Stables. The big barn was just as shabby but not as large. The corrals were more run down. However, the beer joint was larger. It had a large room for dancing and seemed to be a focal point for the whole operation. Jim Stanley always had a string of trading horses. One Saturday afternoon in the early fall, Dad stopped in to see the horses. There was a good story with each horse, however, Dad knew salesmen and took everything in with a grain of salt. Dad was attracted to a brown quarter horse gelding. The gelding was small and brown and plain. Nothing flashed a message to take a look at him. Before the day was over, we had traded Rex in on the brown gelding. ( Dad had previously traded Ken out of his half of Rex.) I have no idea how much boot was paid to the horse trader. The name of the gelding was Steamboat Bill, and this name was the most unusual thing about the horse. He had a pleasant disposition, but his gaits were choppy and his walk was slow. The one that seemed to like him the most was Lonnie. After she had shown him that she was in charge, they became great friends. When Dad took them hunting, he rode Bill on one side of the canyon and his hunting partner rode Lonnie. The horses sang back and forth to each other all day.
When Dad and Mom were first married, Mom let Dad know that she was a city girl and that she never wanted to move further south in the Salt Lake Valley than 2100 South. This may seem humorous in 1998, but in 1953, 6500 South was really out in the sticks. In 1953 Mom and Dad decided to build a house on ‘The Lot’ and move to the country. Dad welcomed the challenge of building a house by himself. It took a year to complete. During that year he spent a lot of time at The Lot. Even with all of the building, we found some time for horsing around with Lonnie, Mayday and Steamboat Bill. Ken Hardy's family were also involved with their horses. Ken bought a liver chestnut mare, Flax, a short stalky liver chestnut with a flaxen mane and tail. She was slow and lazy, so, Ken went to Suntan Stables and traded her for a half Arabian- half thoroughbred mare they named Starlene. The Lot was full of activity during the summer of 1953.
After the deer hunt in 1953, Dad and Ken decided to put the horses on winter pasture in Rush Valley near St. John. Dad was busy working on the house so we didn’t ride a much that winter. A couple of times Dad, Ken, Richard and I went out for a ride. We rode Steamboat, Starlene, Bonnie and Lonnie. Mayday just ran along behind.
During the winter, Dad and Ken had been talking about joining the Palomino Posse. They started looking for some palomino mares. Dad found a mare that he wanted at the Lazy Bar Ranch. Lady was a half Tennessee Walker mare and was a rich golden palomino color. She was a nice sized- standing 15 hands and 1 inch at the withers- and she was real gentle. Ken found a mare at the Suntan Stables that he wanted. This dark dappled palomino was name Goldie. One thing I remember distinctly about her is that she had a china eye. The trade was a bit complicated. To start off, Dad traded Steamboat to Ken for Bonnie. Then Dad traded Bonnie in on Lady, and Ken traded Steamboat in on Goldie.
The next Saturday morning Dad and Ken drove to Rush Valley to pick up their two trading horses. They drove Dad's suburban and pulled the open top, single- axle, horse trailer. Things went well until they were on the way home between Tooele and Salt Lake. The lug bolts came loose on the right wheel of the trailer, and the wheel came off. This caused the trailer to roll. They had to cut halters to pull out the two horses. Both Steamboat and Bonnie were a little scuffed up, but fortunately they were not badly hurt. Lavell Huffman came by in a big feed truck and hauled the horses back home. Dad and Ken got another tire on the crumpled trailer and were able to drag it back home. The big trade was consummated the next day and they were in the palomino horse business.
Ken wasn't pleased with his horse trade. A few months later, he traded Goldie for a nice big palomino gelding named Captain (Dad and I really liked him.) Shortly after that, he traded Captain for another palomino mare named Goldie. This mare was a flighty 3 year old that reminded me of a giraffe. A while later, he traded Goldie number 2 for a corral balky black mare named Dolly. Finally after a year or so, he traded Dolly for a gray quarter horse mare named Lightning. I wonder sometimes if Ken remembered what horses were out to the lot.
I mentioned before that Richard had taken a shine to Rex. He decided to buy him back from Jim Stanley. During the winter of 1953-1954, he worked in his uncle’s tamale plant. In the spring he bought Rex back for $35. Some buckaroo had started riding Rex and had cowboyed him. He was too much horse for young Richard. Nevertheless, Ken kept him until Richard was in high school and lost his horse interest.
Horse Breeders of Cottonwood
Our family moved out to The Lot in July of 1954. That summer Dad decided to become a horse breeder. Charlie Boyce owned a little buckskin stallion he called Smokey. He was a little big horse standing only fourteen and a half hands high. Nevertheless, he had a lot of heart and go. Charlie told everybody that the horse was one quarter Arabian, three eights Morgan and three eights Hambletonian. I don’t think that he really knew the horse's breeding, since Smokey's mother, Peggy, had been bred while she ran with the wild horses on the Indian reservation in the Uintah basin. Nevertheless, it sounded good to me. In the fall of 1954 we tried to breed all three of our mares. Lonnie and Lady settled.
Kaylene, Charlie and I made a good adjustment into the Cottonwood area. I think that we all liked our new schools better than the old ones. In November Connie was born. Mom had some problems and spent some extra time in the hospital. We were all glad to get Mom and Connie home. Kaylene was real pleased to have a sister.
In school I made friends with Warren Sweeten. He invited me to join the Olympus Mountie riding club. The first meeting was the Saturday before Easter. It was a big egg hunt in the sand hills. Mayday and I both liked the club and became regular members.
In the late summer of 1955, Lonnie and Lady were showing serious signs of pregnancy. Dad put Lady in Bert Musser's pasture on Vine Street. The first weekend in August was the Mountie Horse Show and Rodeo. Friday morning started out with rain, and the storm settled in for the whole day. Just after noon, we got a telephone call from Mr. Musser. Mom loaded all of us youngsters in the car and drove us down to the pasture to see Lady. She had foaled. Lady and her sorrel colt were soaking wet and were getting some shelter under a big willow tree. Kaylene asked Mom what we should name the colt. Mom said it was obvious that his name was Stormy. We all agreed.
We wanted Lonnie to hurry up and foal so Stormy would have a friend to play with. However, it was September the eigth when Dad went out to the barn and found Lonnie suckling a big red colt. This colt’s name was also obvious. He had extra long hair, and when it was wet it was curly. Thus, we all agreed that his name should be Curly. We had expected some real colorful colts. After all, we had bred a palamino and a pinto to a buckskin. We were surprised to have two common sorrels, however, we were not disappointed. It was fun to watch the two of them play together.
Curly had inherited Lonnie’s personality. Everybody seemed to like him immediately. Dad played with him a lot. Before long, Dad taught him a trick. Dad would hold Curly's front legs chest high while Curly stood on his back legs. The only picture I can find of Curly doing this is really poor. There is a lamp post in the middle of the picture.
When we weaned Stormy, we sold him to Hugh Lyman for his little boy. Hugh's wife didn't understand why a person would buy a horse for a 3 year old boy. She said, "He told the kid he would have to earn his own money to buy a tricycle, and then turned around a bought him a horse." I'm glad that my mother understood things like this. She knew how people acted when they were smitten with Horse Fever.
Having the colt weaned was just another day in paradise for Lady. However, when we separated Lonnie and Curly, Lonnie took a major fit. She got so excited it gave her a nose bleed. This upset Curly. When Dad went in to feed him that evening, he reared up and struck Dad breaking some ribs. Dad did not fly into a rage. He did not swear. He calmly picked up a hardwood handle and followed Curly into the stall. I heard the scuffle of feet and a few solid thuds. Then Dad came walking out of the stall, and Curly peeked sheepishly out of the door after him. He never struck or kicked after that.
Lonnie
At this point in my saga, I feel that it is important to say a little about each of the horses that we rode between 1955 and 1959. I will start with Lonnie. She is the horse that Kaylene, Charlie and I learned to ride on. We liked to ride her because she was gentle, had power steering and a smooth ride. Kaylene love to ride her bareback. That is to say that she liked to ride Lonnie without a saddle. (Kaylene was always a very modest young lady.) Both Charlie and I learned to ride without a saddle on Lonnie. Her gaits were very smooth. I wish that I had a video tape of her performing her single-foot. I believe that it was a even four beat gait. Lonnie also had a smooth trot, but she had no tendency to pace. Kaylene rode her with the side saddle and liked the smooth ride. When a visitor came to ride, we put them on Lonnie. If she thought that she could bluff a rider, she would just wander off and eat grass. She would not respond to the stranger. If one of us got on her, she would suddenly be a sweet obedient little mare.
Sometimes we grew tired of shaking hands with her. If you were saddling up, you would have to stop six or eight times to shake hands with her. I wonder sometimes, who was in charge? I loved her kicking trick. It was great to show off with. I remember riding Lonnie double with the neighbor girl, Donna Popp. I cued the mare to kick and got a great big hug. As Lonnie got older, she started to stumble a little. About 1957, her right eye was injured. It may have been from a kick by another horse or a BB gun. We never really found out. Lonnie had a hard time adapting to only having one eye. She would shy from a noise or something she imagined on her right side and jump into danger on the left. It was difficult to ride her along the roads or in the mountains. One time she was being ridden on a mountain trail with the mountain on her left side and a drop off on the right. She spooked from a big rock that she saw on the left side, and stepped off into thin air. Luckily it wasn’t a long drop, and the ground caught her. Dad found a home for Lonnie with some people that had a dog kennel and some big pastures in the West Jordan area. I remember how hard it was for Kaylene to say good bye to her.
Mayday
Because I broke Mayday, I was very possessive of her. I rode her so much that she finally figured out what being ridden was all about. Most people would have considered her well broke, however, it was due to my perseverance and not my skill. I taught her to stop if a person was getting off or falling off. This was a nice feature. Mayday did not have any withers and could not hold a saddle. I remember once riding down into a creek to let her have a drink. The army saddle slipped down on her neck, and I was thrown into the water.
She had bone spavin in her back legs. For this reason, she lacked agility and power in her hind quarters. One time I entered her in the shoe string roping event at the Mountie’s rodeo. They gave me a fast little Brahma X Angus crossbred calf. Mayday tried her best. The announcer made a fool out of us. He would say, “There goes the bay mare after the black calf. The black calf is leading by three lengths.....etc..” This went on and on. I never got close enough to the calf to throw a rope. Doggedly, Mayday and I followed the calf around and around the arena. The announcer never shut up. It seemed like I rode forever. Finally the judge, Brady Derker, asked me to quit. My ego took a real beating from this experience.
I believe that Charley brought out the best in Mayday. Charlie rode Mayday on trail rides and in parades. We trained her to pull the two wheeled cart, and Charlie liked to drive her. He rode her in the Mountie shows. He really liked the egg race. I will never forget when he won first place on her in the ‘All Around Kid Pony Class.’ The veterinarian told us when Mayday was sick that she would never be a useful horse. Charlie proved him wrong when he won that first place trophy.
Lady
I believe that my Dad enjoyed Lady more that any horse he ever owned. Lady had a real smooth running walk and could really travel. She was a bit lazy, and Dad always rode her with spurs. Lady was steady and sure footed in the mountains. She always took things one step at a time. Dad and I hunted deer in Clover Canyon with my Uncle Don, Cousin Wally and Ray Willahan. One year Don and Ray both shot deer high in the aspens. Dad drug them down to a level place to load them. Both of the deer were loaded on Lady and hauled down the canyon. Lady was stout and strong, but she never gave any more effort than you asked for.
Everybody in the family rode Lady. I think Mom even rode her a time or two. I liked to ride her in parades, and one year I rode her in a special Mounties drill dressed as an Indian chief. When Lady was walking or moving out in a running walk she was a joy to ride. If you sped her up, she would sometimes hit a strange mixed gait. It was terrible to ride without a saddle. When Lady went into a lope, she would often be on a different lead in front than she was in back. This was very awkward.
Lady didn’t have a sparkling personality even though she was kind and gentle to people. She was sometimes hard to catch. Dad would lecture her and finally take hold of her tail so she would stand to be caught. Lady was the boss with the other horses. Other horses feared her and learned never to get cornered by her. She about kicked the cinder block barn down twice trying to work over Lonnie. Another time, she kicked a horse through a cable fence leaving the horse on the ground with its feet tangled in the cables. There is still a foot print in the side of the stock rack on the old ford truck from her kicking at Curly.
One summer morning about 1957, Dad drove down State Street on his way to work. As he passed a used car lot, he noticed a man pulling an old antique buggy out for display. Dad stopped and asked if the buggy was for sale. The man said that it was and that he wanted thirty five dollars for it. Dad said, “sold” and bought it on the spot. The previous winter, we had broke lady to harness and had used her on a cutter owned by Dale Howells. It didn’t take a lot of work to train her to pull the buggy. In two weeks we had her ready to enter in the Days of Forty Seven parade in down town Salt Lake City. Dad drove her in the parade with Kaylene and Charlie along in the buggy. There was a big band following them, but Lady didn’t even notice. She was too busy looking pretty for the people.
In 1959 we entered the Days of Forty Seven parade with Lady again. Dad, my cousin Wally and Charlie rode in the buggy. I rode behind on Curly. The parade ended at Liberty Park. While Dad stopped the wagon in the confusion of the post parade traffic, Charlie stood up in the back of the wagon and waved to everybody. When Dad abruptly started out again, Charlie lost balance and fell out. He landed hands first on the pavement and broke his arm. The ambulance was there immediately. Dad jumped in with Charlie and left me with Curly and Lady. Curly was terrified of the Buggy. I put my cousin Wally, who was not an experienced hand with horses, on Curly and told him to ride on the sidewalk to Grandma Hardy’s house. I drove sensible old Lady in the heavy traffic. When we got to Grandma’s place, Lady was dripping milk. We had left her colt at home. She was real casual about leaving her children. Nevertheless, her bag was so full that I had to milk her out. (Mares milk is real sweet.) They took a long time in the hospital working on Charlie. I got tired of waiting for Dad, so I loaded the horses in the old stock truck and drove home. It was a suspense filled trip, since I didn’t have a drivers license.
I can remember one special ride I took on Lady. I had worked until midnight washing dishes at the Cottonwood Club. Dad asked me to change the water at Riva’s pasture on 6200 South and Highland Drive. I changed the water and got in the car to drive home, however, the car battery was dead. After I found a piece of baling twine, I caught Lady. With just a piece of twine around her neck, I swung on and headed for home. I don’t remember much about the trip because I fell asleep. When I woke up, I was on her broad back, safe in the driveway at home. That is how I will always remember Lady.
Curly
Curly had the personality of some 14 year old boys. He loved people and liked to be the life of the party. He was sometimes a little irresponsible. If you had an adventure in mind, he was always game to participate. Curly loved water and was a good swimmer. If a rabbit jumped out of the brush ahead, Curly would notice it before the rider did. If a war whoop signaled him to chase the rabbit, he was off like a scalded cat. Curly was fun to ride bare back. I would often catch him at his pasture on twenty third east (There is a freeway there now.) on the way home from somewhere. I could jump on him and ride him home with just my belt or a handful of mane. I taught him to kick up his heels when he was touched in the flank by a boot heel. This was handy when we were being chased by angry dogs, or when I wanted a hug from someone riding behind me.
Curly was real trustworthy, unless you were trying to hook him up in a buggy or trying to load a deer on his back. When Dad and I first tried to load a deer on him, he had a fit. However, when I climbed in the saddle, he let Dad hand the deer up to me. Curly got so he trusted Dad and me. When we loaned him to a friend to pack a deer out, he scattered deer, saddle and hunters all over the mountain. After two runaways, I gave up hooking Curly to a buggy. He just couldn’t stand anything bouncing along behind him.
Even though Curly would stand quietly, he could jump into action in a second. One year Charlie rode Curly on an Olympus Mounties ride in the Uintah mountains. After a couple of hours of riding, some of the girls suggested that we make a rest stop. It was suggested that the girls should ride down the trail a half of a mile, and the boys should rest where they were. After the boys had rested themselves, they waited. They wanted to make sure that the girls had rested completely before they continued down the trail. The boys waited for another 10 minutes.
Finally, our leader said, “We need to send someone up the trail to see if the girls are ready.” He didn’t have the “word someone out of his mouth before Charlie kicked Curly into a run and yelled, “Ready or not girls, here we come.” Down the trail charged two silly teenage boys-Charlie and Curly.
As Connie and Kent grew up, they learned to ride on Curly. Kaylene told me that when she was trying to make a decision about who she should marry, she rode old Curly up the mountain to pray and meditate. Curly was not just a horse, he was a good friend.
Breeding Half Morgans
In 1958 we became seriously interested in the Morgan horse breed. Charlie Boyce had a young stallion, Galo’s Victor, that he bought from the L.U. Sheep and Cattle company in Worland Wyoming. We had paid $15 to breed to Smokey. The stud fee for Galo was $35 for registered mares and $25 for grades. We decided to breed Mayday and Lady. Mayday didn’t settle, but Dad could tell the next spring that Lady was great with foal. For over a week, Dad got up and checked her at night and Mom watched her out of the kitchen window during the day. Dad and Mom worried a lot about the mares when they were about to foal. Typically, Dad would check a mare at about 10 PM, again at 1 or 2 AM and again around 6 AM. He was always amazed when a mare wouldn’t look very close to foaling at 2 AM and would have a foal up nursing at 6 AM.
Lady had the first half Morgan foal on the place. He was a palomino colt. Mom could see him in the pasture out of the kitchen window and enjoyed watching him. We named him Golden Victory, but we called him Vic. We bred Lady back, and she had a match for Vic in the spring of 1960. Mom named him Elphine, and a friendlier colt was never born. These colts seemed to like people more than their mother. If we had people visit the house, we would catch them and let them visit with the humans on the back lawn. In 1961 lady had a filly to match the two colts. We named her Little Lady.
In December of 1959 we bought a weanling, palomino, stallion from the L.U Ranch. He was raised with Vic. He was a purebred Morgan registered as Highland Sunborn, however, we called him Sunny. We bred him to Lady and Mayday and he visited the neighbor’s mare Dolly. He produced several Half-Morgan colts.
Charlie and I broke Vic and Elphine as a team, and we sold them to a high rolling insurance executive. We sold Little Lady to Eb Stoker. Lady was sold to the Gilletts in 1962. They bred her to Highland Sunborn and Pleasant Perdition to produce other half Morgan foals. The last of these, Molly, was born in 1971. Dad bought Molly from the Gilletts and she has served our family as a gentle family horse for almost 2 decades. Dad only raised one foal from Molly. He bred her to a Missouri Foxtrotter and produced a gray gelding named Joseph that we sold to a family in Lindon. My son Jesse’s children kept Molly in Gunnison until she coliced and died.
We were able to get Mayday bred to a Morgan stallion in 1960. She settled to Scottish Dawn and had a dark chestnut filly, May Dawn, the following spring. We sold May Dawn as a weanling. Mayday had a filly the following year that was sired by Highland Sunborn. Her name was Sparkel, and I let her run all summer in the pasture without being halter broke. The day I went to get the horses, I caught and halter broke her in 10 minutes. We bred Mayday back and sold her and Sparkle to Bishop Scharman and his friend, a Mr. Jones, that lived over on Fardown Avenue.
My last memory of Mayday happened in the spring of 1962. Mayday was great with foal and was very close foaling. She decided that it was time to foal, and she needed to come home. I was walking home from the pasture up on 2300 East, when I heard the hoof beats of a running horse behind me. I turned around and saw Mayday running down the road. I called to her, and she came right up to me. I could tell by looking at her that she was close to foaling. I put my belt around her neck and led her home. We called her new owner and told him where she was. I felt like I had betrayed her. He insisted on coming right over to get her, so she could foal at her new home. Mayday still felt like she belonged to the Burrells.
Horse Fever Strain 1789
In the spring of 1958 my Dad contracted a new strain of the horse fever virus. This strain, first identified in 1789, has been identified as strain 1789 or the Morgan Strain. After some long budget talks with Mom, he started looking for a mare. We searched long and hard with no success. Finally, Dad ran an advertisement in the Deseret News. A man in Magna called and invited us out to look at a chestnut mare. Julie De Jarnette was fourteen hands, three inches tall and was 15 years old. We rode her and liked her, so Dad started into some serious trading talk. The man wanted $400, but Dad got him to take a $100 pump in on the deal. We were in the Morgan business.
The first Morgan Stallion I had seen in my life was Stellar. Mel VanOrman had ridden him on an overnight Mountie ride back in 1956. We had been very impressed with him at the time. Dad felt that Julie should be bred to Stellar, even though the stud fee, $50, was rather expensive. When Julie was close to foaling the following spring, Dad watched her very closely. One evening she started having contractions. One of our Morgan Friends came over for a visit about the time the mare started into labor. Now, he owned a book on foaling mares. He hadn’t read it all the way through yet, but he felt that ownership of the book qualified him as an expert. Julie continued to have some contractions. They were not regular and sometimes they stopped for a while and started again after twenty minutes or so. Our expert assured us that everything was fine and that we needed to be patient. The water broke and still things did not happen. We didn’t know that the colt was not turned in the correct position. We also didn’t know that a mare usually has a foal from thirty minutes to two hours after breaking water. This mare and foal were in real trouble, and we didn’t call the vet because our expert had things under control. Finally after six hours of waiting, the foal positioned itself, and the mare was able to deliver it in a posterior position. The foal was very weak and had inhaled some fluid. It did not live through the night. We had never had a horse die on the place, and this was our first purebred Morgan foal. A lot of hopes were shattered during that long night.
Julie was a true family horse and was an all around horse in the tradition of Justin Morgan. Dad and I trained her to drive in double harness with Lady. Kaylene rode her side saddle in the costume class at the Rocky Mountain Morgan Horse Show. Connie rode her in the egg race. We were even able to get Mom to ride her. When Kent was 4 or 5 years old, he was riding Julie up and down the rode with the McClellan saddle. The cinch broke, and Kent and the saddle fell off. They were west of Stoker's house, about where the fire hydrant is. Julie waited patiently while Kent picked himself up and gathered the end of the reins in one hand and the saddle in the other. When we noticed them, Kent was dragging the saddle and Julie was walking, head down, carefully behind him. Kent was a brave boy to recover both his horse and saddle.
We tried to breed Julie back to Stellar, however, she never settled. One morning in the summer of 1961, I was awakened by the squeals of horses. I pulled on boots and pants and ran down the stairs and out to the corrals. Julie was in heat. She had escaped out of her pen and had gone to visit Highland Sunborn. In their excitement they destroyed the wooden gait. Sunny had bred Julie, and afterwards she had kicked the heck out of him. Sunny came running to me as soon as he saw me. His muscle was twitching in his left front shoulder. The twich was there for several days, however, he recovered from his adventure physically sound. Afterwards, he was a lot more cautious about unpredictable mares. He understood afterwards that being kicked by a mare was an occupational hazard for a stallion.
Julie foaled in the spring of 1962 and had a healthy, gentle filly that we named Za Za De Jarnette. While I was on my mission (September 1963 to Mar 1966), Julie had two palomino foals that were sired by Sunny. The first of these, a colt, was sold to a man in Grantsville. The last one, a filly, was sold to a lady in Delta. Julie was twenty two years old when she had her last foal. Dad was never able to get her to settle again. He gave her to my cousin Dorene for her children. They loved her and gave her a good home until she passed on to horse heaven.
The Golden Years
I hesitate to start writing about Sunny. He deserves a whole book to himself. However, that is another project. In the fall of 1959 we learned that there was a palomino weanling colt available at the L.U Ranch. We made arrangements to purchase him. Some early storms delayed the roundup until December. Just after Christmas, Ernie Pedlar and a friend made a trip to pick up some colts and brought Sunny home. When I first saw Sunny, he was a mass of long, cream colored hair. He was tied up to a post. The rope ran through the ring in his halter and between his front legs. It ended in a bowline that went around his body at his girth. He would rear and strike if you were in front of him, and he would kick if you were behind him. I spent a lot of time with him for the first month. It wasn't long until I could lead him in the garage, drop the halter rope and clip him with the electric clippers. We developed a bond of friendship and trust that first month that lasted for thirty four years.
Sunny was eager to get a breeding program started. In July of 1960, when he was only a yearling, he jumped the back fence and bred Dale Howells' little mare, Dolly. Sunny's first foal was a chestnut filly that was named Liberty Bell because she was born on the Fourth of July. A lot of his foals were half Morgans. However, he produced registered foals from Julie De Jarnette and Dawn of Lochiel. The only stallion that we kept from Sunny was a big chestnut colt out of Dawn of Lochiel. Kent and I wanted to name him Perdition. Mother insisted that we name him something more pleasant, so we named him Pleasant Perdition. Two of Perditions foals, Chester and Molly, have been ridden by four generations of Burrells.
I have never ridden a horse that was more sensible and better on his feet in the mountains than Sunny. While I was on my mission, Dad used Sunny on the deer hunt. One night in the dark he loaded a big buck on him and started leading him down the trail. Usually Sunny didn't have to be led. If the halter rope was unsnapped or tied to the saddle, he would just follow. As Dad traveled down the canyon, Sunny stopped. Dad pulled on him, but Sunny would not move. When Dad stepped back to check things out, he found that the saddle and deer had slipped and were hanging underneath Sunny's belly. The antlers were gouging him, but he was waiting patiently for Dad to do something about it.
We showed Sunny quite a bit in the Morgan shows. Judges back then discriminated against palominos, so he did not do well in halter classes. Charlie and I entered him in a costume class several years. We would hook him to the old buggy. I would dress up as an old man, and Charlie would dress up as an old lady. We won first place two years in a row. The year I got married Gail replaced Charlie. (This was a relief to Charlie.) Nevertheless, we only took second place that year.
We entered Sunny in pleasure classes, trail horse classes, keyhole races, pole bending, barrel racing, pleasure driving, costume classes, quarter mile races, Justin Morgan Classes and trailer races. There are several trophies still hanging around for his triumphs in the keyhole race, pole bending and barrel race. I remember one year when Charlie and I used him in the trailer race and beat everybody hands down. However, we didn't latch the trailer door and were disqualified.
We gelded Sunny in the summer of 1967. He foundered and spent a long time in recovery. When I dated Gail that fall, she learned to ride on Sunny. I believe that she was attracted to him not me. I probably would have never captured her heart without him.
I went in the army in 1968 and attended graduate school in Colorado from 1970 to 1972. During this time, Kent and Connie rode Sunny and used him in 4H. In 1972, when he was thirteen years old, I took Sunny with me to Iowa where I managed a herd of cattle for Iowa State University. That is when Sunny started working with the next generation of Burrells. He spent the next 21 years helping Gail and I raise our family.
More Morgans at The Lot in Cottonwood
In 1962 a friend of Dad’s got divorced from his wife. He needed to sell some horses fast. One Saturday morning he came over to visit with Dad. He had a two year old Chango daughter for sale. She was a chestnut named Dawn of Lochiel. (Don was partial to Scottish names.) After a long visit about the situation, Dad offered Don $250 for the mare. Don agreed, and Dad sent me over on Curly to pick her up before Don backed out.
Dawn was absolutely docile, and we started breaking her right away. Charlie did most of the riding on her. She couldn't buck hard, but she could crow hop. One time, when she was crow hopping with him, he jerked her head up sharply. She raised her head, but Charlies' head was in the way, and she connected with his nose. He had a sore nose for a long time. We broke Dawn to pull the two wheeled training cart, and we hooked her up several times. One lovely Sunday afternoon, Dad decided to hook her up again. Charlie and I were not home to help him. She was as good as pie until he started down the hill below Stoker's house. When she felt the breeching, she humped up a bit and bolted. There were two big piles of dirt at the bottom of the hill. She pulled the tire of the cart over a pile of dirt and rolled the cart. Dad fell out on his shoulder and broke his collar bone. I don't really know what happened after that. When I arrived home, I found the cart in the driveway with the shaves bent up like pretzels. I found pieces of harness scattered down the road and Dawn packing a swollen leg in the back corral. Nobody was in the house, so I called the Howells. They told me that Dale had taken Dad to the Hospital.
Even though we had some wrecks with her at first, Dawn ended up being a real steady saddle horse. She was good in the mountains and reliable to pack deer on. If she had a fault, it was that she was lazy and sometimes unresponsive. Dawn had three foals that were sired by Sunny. The oldest of these was Fair Dawn. He was a big palamino colt and was very pleasant to handle. I broke him and Gi Gi's first colt while I was dating Gail. Gail helped me with them a lot. I didn't tell Gail, at the time, that she was helping me pay off my debt to Dad for her engagement ring. Dawn's second foal was a paloamino filly that Dad sold to a lady in Delta, while I was on my mission in Finland. Her third foal was Pleasant Perdition. Dad bred her once more to a stallion of Garth Cowley's. The foal was a chestnut filly that Connie named April. Dad sold Dawn to some people in Arizona in the late seventies.
Za Za Jubilee was the first surviving registered Morgan foal that was born on The Lot in Cottonwood. While I was on my mission, Dad started ground driving her, and he had one of Kaylene's boyfriends start riding her. She was bred to Gaylo's Victor and produced a nice chestnut filly in 1966. Dad sold the filly to Jack Monson, who named her Chevelle Chug. Jack kept her as a family horse for many years.
Lamar Quick was a trick rider. In the late 1950s and early 1960s, he rode teams of black and white paint horses Roman style in rodeos all over the west. One day in 1967, he showed up at our place with Mr. Jones that owned Mayday's filly, Sparkle. He was looking for a matched partner for Sparkle. Lamar wanted another Roman team and needed another mare as smart as Sparkle. Dad showed him Za Za, and he was impressed. She looked just like Sparkle and was almost as smart. (If the truth was told, Sparkle, the half Morgan was the better mare.) Dad sold Za Za to him, and Lamar started training the pair right away. He invited me to come see them work one day at the Suntan Stables arena. I could not believe my eyes. He was riding them over 3 foot jumps, and they were working like they had done it all of their lives. Lamar told me that in a couple of days he would start jumping them over fire.
Gi Gi Jubilee
In the late fall of 1961 Dad, Don Cameron, Charlie and I drove up to the Neeley ranch in Newdale, Idaho. It was a Friday night, and it was a long trip in a snow storm. It didn't help that four of us were crammed into the cab of the truck. We arrived at the ranch really late. Mrs. Neeley invited us in and found a bed for each of us. We woke early the next morning and looked things over while chores were being done. When the chores were completed, we were invited in the house for breakfast. Charlie was ready to move up there when he saw the spread on the table. There were eggs, ham, bacon, sausage, oatmeal, muffins, fried potatoes and waffles. Charlie had several waffles with fresh strawberry preserves and whipped cream. Mrs Neeley took a liking to Charlie and invited him to come work for the summer. Mom and Dad wouldn't let him.
That morning we picked out a weanling filly. She was the same color as her mother, Gwenie, a rich copper chestnut with a flaxen mane and tail. I still don't know why we picked a filly that was out of the wildest mare on the ranch. We named the filly Copper, and it wasn't until the following spring that she developed some leg problems. Her hocks swelled up, and she was stiff when she moved. Mrs Neeley insisted that we return the filly and take her sister that was born in 1962.
The younger filly was a solid chestnut with no markings. Since we had a Za Za the same age, she was named Gi Gi. She was a temperamental filly to handle. Gi Gi was always hard to catch and didn't like her feet handled. While I was on my mission, Dad, Kaylene and Jense Nielson broke her to ride under English tack. Jense had served in the Dannish Cavalry and was a good horseman. When he was excited he would say, "O brudder." Kaylene spent a lot of time riding Gi Gi and rode her in some Morgan shows in English Pleasure classes. The mare had a nice walk, trot and canter.
After Kaylene was married, Gi Gi became Dad's favorite riding horse. She was real steamy and had a lot of go. After she had been ridden a year or so, she developed other gaits. The mare would perform a walk, running walk, single foot or rack, stepping pace, 2 beat pace, trot, canter and gallop. Most of the time she was smooth to ride, but she would wear a person out sometimes coming home. Dad rode her often in the mountains and gathered cattle with her at the stake ranch.
Gi Gi was certainly the most prolific mare Dad ever had. I broke most of her colts. All of them had plenty of bottom and lots of go. She only had two fillys, and this was a point of frustration with Dad. Here is a list of her foals, their years of birth, their sires and their owners..
1966 Gaylo's Jubilation by Gaylo's Victor Wendy Hanger
1967 Gaylo's Pride by Gaylo's Victor Darrel Smith
1970 Sporting Venture by Pleasant Perdition Darrel Smith
1971 Chester's Jubilee by Pleasant Perdition W. Craig Burrell
1973 Perdition's Angel by Pleasant Perdition Someone in Nevada
1974 Tom Boy's Pride by Ricci's Champ Dr. Dan Dorhrty
1975 Little Joes Jubilation by Ricci's Champ Valene Howells
1976 Jacob's Jubillee by Ricci's Champ Someone in Idaho
1977 Julilee Chocolate Miss by Ricci's Champ Donna Tischner
1979 Mountain Daybreak by Topside Congressman Someone in Alpine
1980 Mountain Pinion by Ricci's Champ Pete Christensen
1981 Diamond B Champ by Ricci's Champ Gail L. Burrell
1983 Aborted a filly by Omar Sherrif
1984 Diamond B Hondo by Omar Sherrif Dentist in Price
1985 Diamond B Warrior by Omar Sherrif Man in Holaday
I have cussed old Gi Gi many times; however, when I look at the list of her offspring, I have to admit that she was worth putting up with . I don't know what I would have done without Chester and what Gail would have done without Champ. I retired Missy to live with my daughter Donna’s family. Her and her husband raised and trained two of her ssy's offspring: Diamond B Countess and Westfield's Jubilation. My son, Westley, trained two of Missy's offspring: Diamond B Dutchess and Diamond B Duke.
Three days after Gi Gi had her last foal, Diamond B Warrior, she died of colic. In my last memory of her, she is lying on the ground dead with a group of my children watching, while Warrior sucks one last nursing of milk. However, the happy memory of her, that is imprinted on my mind, is of my Dad riding her down a trail in the sagebrush. Her head is up. She is on a fast four beat gait and is paddling with her front legs in her own original style. The riders behind her are trotting to keep up, and Dad has a big smile on his face.
Morgan Horse Trades
In the late 1970s Connie was in need of a horse that worked well in the show ring. After looking around, they found a big chestnut mare named Galo's Windsong. She worked well in the arena, and Connie rode her both English and Western. Nevertheless, any place out of the arena was an alien world to her. It was frustrating to ride her in the mountains. This mare was bred to Ricci's Champ and had a chestnut colt in 1977. It was sold to some people in Idaho. After Connie was married. Windy was sold.
Sporting Venture was a big chestnut gelding out of Gi Gi. He was a lot of horse. More horse than Dad needed in 1980. Dad traded him to Darrel Smith and took a filly sired by Ricci's Champ on the trade. The filly's registered name was Mis Muffin. She was a light chestnut with a flaxen mane and tail. She grew into a big mare standing fifteen hands and one inch at the withers. Muffin had a quiet disposition mare and was gentle to ride, however, she did have a tendency to jig on the way home. Nevertheless, Dad enjoyed riding her.
In 1982 Muffin was bred to Omar Sherrif. We named her colt Diamond B. Dandy. He was a dark chestnut and stood fifteen and a half hands tall. We sold him to Darrel Smith, who used him as a stallion for several years. Later he was gelded and used as a show horse.
Dad was impressed with a black stallion named West Mountain Undertaker. Muffin was bred to Undertaker in 1983. She had a bay colt that we named Diamond B Digger. Digger was sold to Pete Christensen as a weanling. He was used to work cattle and to ride in the mountains. Pete also trained him to harness. Digger was a true Morgan in the tradition of Justin Morgan. He even looked like Justin Morgan. I leased him from Pete so I could breed him to some mares in 1993. A couple of years later, I bought him. I sold him to Wendy Hanger, who trained him as a show horse. His life ended in a tragedy. He broke his leg and had to be destroyed. Digger sired only eight registered foals.
In 1984 we bred Muffin back to Omar Sherrif. She aborted twins and was never able to get pregnant again. Muffin was sold several years ago when there was no place for Dad to go riding near The Lot in Cottonwood.
The last of Dad's mares to be kept at The Lot in Cottonwood was Molly. For seveal years, Kent's children rode her and helped Dad take care of her. In the summer 1998 she was taken to my son, Jesse's house in Gunnison to help raise another generation of Burrells.
Epilogue
It has been said many times, "There is something about the outside of a horse that is good for the inside of a man." Winston Churchill once said, "No moment in life is lost that is spent in the saddle." Growing up with a horse has helped me to learn responsibility and to have joy in working. As I have worked with horses, I have learned to be more patient and kind with people. Raising horses has helped me to appreciate life and to understand death. It was a great benefit for me to grow up with horses. Thank you Mom and Dad for raising a few horses on The Lot in Cottonwood!
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