Every inch of him was a Texan and a delight to be with. The story I tell is another example of an individual having and using his own voice. He was a southern gentleman, and in addition to the workshops we held with his partner and staff, he was a pleasure to share free time with. We joined him and a small group on his ranch near the town where he was born for a memorable weekend. We enjoyed great food, drinks, a game of “warshers, and plenty of good old-fashioned laughs and the kind of talk I call dialogue.
But, what is or are “ warshers”? We call them washers in the far west; they call them warshers in Texas. What matters is not what the game is called but the game itself. It’s like horseshoes; only what you throw to a stake at about the same distance are small warshers about the size of a silver dollar. Whoever gets them closest to the post wins.
As luck would have it, this guy from the far west is a horseshoe player of merit. The game of warshers was a cakewalk for me, and much to our leader’s chagrin, he was beaten at his own game.
There was a large pond on the ranch, and the catfish in it were huge, at least to my eye, although I know little about catfish. The ranch may still be his, but the town, the small ranch, and his youthful experiences there made him what he became.
It’s been a long time, but I still have fond memories of our work and recreation together, including the Texan Long Horn Bull he had as a pet in his backyard.
Warshers or washers—Does it matter in the game?—It is just friendship
Worked together—And playing together too—Makes for understanding
Sy