Last week left me standing at the door to Bob Moline’s
backyard studio. Don welcomed me inside. I apologized for intruding, told him I knew his friend Don
Edwards, and invited him to our conference.
A beautiful saddle almost exactly like the one I had seen
being crafted in the magazine article sat on a wooden stand, surrounded by
Native American artifacts including Bob’s personal medicine wheel and a
white-faced buffalo head.
The studio was bright and immaculately clean. Many of Bob’s
paintings hung on the walls, some just leaned against it in what might some
might see as haphazard fashion, but I suspected an artist’s sense of order
prevailed. One painting in progress seemed to take center stage.
I already knew that Bob was a Comanche-Pawnee, but I did not
know he had been named official artist of the Texas Bicentennial Wagon Train
(friends Charles Horchem, Larry Mitchell and Gene Casselberry were part of that train). He showed
me some of the greeting cards he had designed and I asked him to sign a few for
me. He also signed the magazines I had brought.
I knew that his work graced the walls of the Cowboy
Hall of Fame because I had seen them there. But I did not know that his work had
appeared on the covers of The Cattleman
and Paint Horse Journal magazines. I
saw awards on the wall naming him an outstanding artist from Texas Professional Artists,
The American Indian and Cowboy Artist’s Society and the Texas Ranger Hall of
Fame.
Moline worked for Ryan’s Saddle Shop for twelve years and
painted as a hobby. His Ryon saddles were purchased by folks like cutting horse
legend Buster Welch, singer Loretta Lynn and movie cowboy Guy Madison. When he
left there and turned to painting, his success as an artist surprised him.
Now,
he said, he paints for a living and makes saddles as a hobby. He also does four
or five sculptures a year.I was surprised when he said that making saddles was his
first love. His trademark is a single eagle feather carved into each saddle, which symbolizes his
personal vision of the West. In Indian culture, it stands for strength, wisdom
and courage.
All the time we were talking, my eyes kept going back to the
saddle on the stand. It had the type of stamping and tooling I prefer, oxbow
stirrups, was the right color of leather and I loved the feather symbol. I
guess nobody will be surprised when I say that I now own that saddle, along
with a matching buffalo head nickel belt that Bob made for me. I wanted a
sculpture of the saddle, but he seemed reluctant to take an order for a sculpture.
I suppose a sculpture is best when inspired, not made to order.
At Punk Carter's ranch |
Some of our reps were reluctant when we announced that Fort
Worth was the site for our next conference (one said it was not a “destination
city”), but their doubts quickly dissipated about five minutes into Don and
Waddie’s exclusive performance at the Worthington for our company. I got to
know them better and also got to meet Rich O’Brien, famous in his own right as
a musician and producer.
Three years later, I left my old job and sold my interest in
the financial services company (1st Global) to pursue a few of those cowboy dreams. One of
the first was a trip across Texas from Ranger in Eastland County to Cooper in
Delta County by covered wagon and horseback to retrace the journey my ancestors
had made eighty years earlier. I rode Bob Moline’s saddle.The picture above was taken on our journey at Punk Carter's Ranch the week after he was named president of the American Cutting Horse Association.
In Decatur, I left my horse outside and walked into an art
gallery featuring the work of Buck Taylor. One of the employees mistook me for
Buck. The same thing happened a few years later at a Fort Worth Stockyards
restaurant.
Next week: the final installment. Don and Waddie come to Commerce
and our Across the Creek arena and barn.
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