His Grandparents were married in Turch

His Gramps put his clothes in Iowa Warsh

They worked hard for a dollar never did dare borrow

Wasn’t any horse he couldn’t brush

 

Anywhere near the Seymour ranch money was scarce

His Gramps raised many thousands of mink

He had a meat grinder on the old tractor

The hard part was fetchin’ up old plow horse dinks

 

Gramps was cleaner than most operating tables

He had his own lumber yard and feed store

When the train went by it dropped his supplies

He let his little boys play with the 6-penny nails on the floor

 

Then it was their time to leave Seymour, Iowa

To get down the road to make ends meet

Gramps had Gram plus five more kids to feed

If they had a state job it’d be easy enuff to get on their feet

 

In no time Gramps was back out on his own spread

He showed Appaloosa horses and fed some hogs

Gramps won horse show awards and bred Music Mounts

Of course one of his famous colts was a Pendleton calf horse Red Dog (won a lot on him @ Pendleton)

Gramps got Parkinson’s before we ever trained horses together

The quality time we spent was around the place him in sweat suits

Every ounce of Gramps’s hard working soul was carried on by his family

You can’t get rid of the Iowa Warsh dialect it’s hooked clean to yer cowboy boots

 

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Comment by Todd Earl Van Dorn on April 13, 2016 at 7:23pm

I never noticed saying Warsh or Turch until one of my Pendleton city friends in junior high made fun of me for saying it. I wrote my first poem for Gramps Van Dorn’s funeral and got the idea from a Run DMC song Son of Byford. I was in 7th grade and I thought he died because I went out and drank beer that weekend I ran off into the night crying. I was reminiscing that day during my meal as I shed many a tear about the old days. Gramps was a very hard worker and went through the depression and knew how to survive without money.

 

 

Country song Suds in the Bucket. Sarah Evans.

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