I was a 17 year old kid, just growing boy. Butch Sayers got me to go with him to Marysville, California to deliver a truck load of Corriente Steers (Mexican Roping Steers). It was just over a year after this that I married Butch’s niece, Madeline and he became Uncle Butch.

We left Marble Falls in the middle of the afternoon in Butch’s Kenworth Cabover and arrived in Del Rio at the stockyards after dark. The trip had been sprung on me suddenly and I didn’t have a chance to eat before we left. I mentioned to Butch a couple of times that we may want to make a stop for some grub. All he was thinking about was getting to Del Rio and loading those steers. The Stockyard Cafe was right there when we drove up. I suggested we have a bite to eat and then load the steers. That fell on deaf ears.

After we got loaded, we both went in and ordered up a big chicken fried steak each. It was a busy place that night and took forever to get our food. I stabbed my fork in that steak to drag it over in the middle my plate to keep the gravy from running off the side. In doing so, lifting the steak that is, I noticed something underneath my meat. It looked like a small birds nest or something. Upon closer inspection I found out it was a big wad of hair.

I wasn’t as discriminating an eater then as I am now. Upon seeing what I’d dragged out from under my steak, Butch immediately abandoned the table and headed for the truck, leaving his plate just sitting there. I got to thinking about how far it was to California and how much trouble I’d had getting Butch to stop so I went ahead and devoured my steak and then ate Butch’s too.

I understand how a single hair could get in one’s food, but I never did quite understand how a wad of hair as big as a brillo-pad found its way under my chicken fried steak. I guess some things you don’t have to fully understand.