Back at the Ranch

Where have all the Cowboys Gone? Paula Cole wasn't messing around, and her words ring true today. Yes, today I find myself asking the same question, because for the first time here at the Ranch I find myself without my foundation, my sounding board, my best friend: William R. Hale.

For those of you who don't know Will Hale, you are missing out on one of the joys of life, to watch it atually being lived to its fullest. BTTW. Hard Core. 110% every time, nothing less. He took life by the horns and forced it into submission.

Countless are the stories of where Will truly lived, and allowed me to be a part of that journey. Many were the adventures we had together. Driving to the middle-of-nowhere Shickshinny, PA to trailer five horses through NYC for a lady we've never met. Three cowboys sleeping on bed rolls and saw dust in a stock trailer outside of Cornell University, dreaming of the wild mustangs they were about to take home. Sneaking onto a private lake we'd never been on after midnight in a brandnew, nameless boat, with an untested motor and no paddle, only a shovel as "plan B" -- just to fish for catfish... and coming away with a 3 ft. eel. Not informing the boys what Double Black Diamond really means, and watching them slide head-first through the snow. Again and again, there we were, looking dumb but having the time of our lives.

Our story starts in the summer of 2004; he could have gone back to school after the summer internship like Ryan and I, but he stayed, just because he could. There was no, "Just let me go back home and grab my stuff..." he stayed. For an entire year he worked here just as he lived, with everything he had. His dream in life being to fight fires, and so he did while he was here, the fires of abuse and neglect, and rescued struggling boys from their burning lives. Now he leaves to fight real fires in Ft. Worth, and he takes a part of us with him. So we send you off with the only fitting blessing, the words of Chris LeDoux: