Just call me ‘Cowboy Bob’

By

Opinion

November 22, 2019 - 4:19 PM

In the early 1950s we had a gang in southeast Humboldt.

Every summer day Carl King, Tony Edwards, Sarajane Clements and I hung out. Our heroes were cowboys, Roy, Gene, Red Ryder, Lash LaRue, and, for Sarajane’s sake, Dale Evans.

We didn’t ride stick horses — how silly, we thought — but went about Mulberry Street and neighbors’ yards galloping and slapping our thighs as if they were our mounts.

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