Bruce Sterling -- A Man of Action

 

 Bruce Sterling -- A Man of Action

Written and read by Gene Cavanaugh at Bruce's funeral in Schulenberg, Texas.
July 27, 1997

I first met Bruce in mid-April 1956, that’s over 41 years ago.  It was a week or so after Dorothy and I got engaged  We were headed to Edinburg so I could be given a once over by the massive Sterling Clan.  Bruce and Beebe and their great young son, Michael Bruce met us at Goliad. and we rode the rest of the way with them in their 49 Ford, "the Blythe Spirit”.  I was' surprised and pleased to find that Bruce and l had many interests in common.  From that day forward, we never ran out of things to talk about.

We shared experiences, we shared opinions, we shared our children’s actions, we shared meals, we shared our plans, we shared responsibilities.

We talked about engineering, we talked about our children, we talked about football, we talked about raising pecans, we talked about computers, we talked about politics, we talked about everything in the world—believe me. Bruce was a very articulate man—he was always able to state his case clearly and concisely. But his statements, as interesting as they were never as impressive as his actions. That's where Bruce showed what a remarkable man he was.  Not once, but over and over again.  He always started when starting was required, and he always followed through. You could bet on it.

When Dorothy and I were married in September of '56, Bruce was just finishing up at his engineering studies at UT.  He and Beebe were flat broke, but somehow managed to scrape up enough money to buy a new suit so he could be a member of our wedding party.

At that time, he was just getting ready to start his engineering career with Amoco in Texas City.  He wasn't all that sure how things would go on his first big job.  But Amoco soon found out that Bruce was truly a man that delivered the goods.  His old friend Ed Wells could verify this, but I don’t think Bruce missed a raise in over 30 years with Amoco.  And | don’t think it was just the money that mattered.  The raises meant he was doing a good job—that’s what was really important to this man.

Because we lived close to Bruce and Beebe, we spent many weekends and holidays together.  Bruce and I seemed to be running parallel paths and there was a certain amount of competition as we went. When I got a raise, Bruce would later get one also.  We were always catching up with each other.  Even our growing families, it was always catch up, as our four children were neatly spaced between Bruce and Beebe's four.

One day, Karen, Joyce, Amy and Sue came to Bruce and me with a problem. Each of us was Daddy to some of them, but Uncle to the others. Their solution was to call both of us Uncle Daddy.  I know that Bruce considered our children very, very important people, just as he considered each and every Sterling cousin.  He often said about all of these great young people, "They are what life is about; nothing is more important than them".  And just like in every other aspect of his life, he was a man of action. He was never so busy that he couldn't give personal attention to these valuable people. He obviously loved them all deeply.

In 1962, Bruce & Beebe and Tom & Elsie Farek went together on purchase of a 60 acre farm in Schulenburg. They bought it for about $10.000, financed with money obtained from their Gl Loans. This was to be the first of many adventures by these two city farmers in the green fields of Fayette County, TX.  We helped 'Bruce and Bebe wire, plumb, insulate and resurface the old farm house. I still wonder how Bruce had the energy and resourcefulness to make it all happen. He just got on with it.

Dorothy and I and our children then made a big leap in 1963 — we moved to California. We really missed our second family — Michael Bruce, Joyce, Amy and Lee were more than just cousins to our kids, they were major factors in their young lives. But we survived somehow, and in not too many years Bruce and Beebe made an even bigger leap — all the way to India, where Bruce worked on the construction and startup of an ammonia plant for Amoco.  It was a great experience for all members their family.  We did keep in touch with them and somehow shared vicariously in their great adventure.

The disastrous plane crash in 1973 that took the lives of Beebe, Joyce and Amy left deep marks on Bruce and Lee, who miraculously survived the accident.  Michael Bruce, on vacation from UT, was staying with us in Houston when the call came from an Amoco executive with the terrible news.  Later that night, I was astounded to receive a call from Bruce himself, from his hospital bed in India, asking for his son.  He wanted him on the next plane to India.  He needed his help.  I often wondered how Bruce had the grit to make that call.  He simply did what had to be done — once again.

Bruce recovered from his injuries, returned with Lee to Texas and was soon back at work with Amoco in Texas City.  Though saddened, he had the grit to get on with his life.  Fortunately, he soon found in Arleen Mueller, a person with whom he wanted to share the future. Their marriage took place outside the old farmhouse in Schulenburg in 1975.  For this event, Bruce's enthusiasm knew no bounds. He directed a crew of second rate carpenters like me to build an outdoor toilet to accommodate the overflow crowd expected for the wedding,  The last time I looked, it was still there.  It was at this event that many of us first met Arleen's mother, Willie.  She has grown to become a very important part of the family.

So. Bruce and Arleen now had things pretty well figured out. Work in Texas City during the week and relax in Schulenburg on the weekends. But, wait a minute. In 1978, they made another huge jump, this time to Trinidad where Bruce managed construction and startup of another Amoco fertilizer plant, then stayed on to manage operations of the unit.  In all they spent seven years on the island, returning in 1985.  Once again, Bruce amazed everyone by planning and executing this difficult program with great skill.  By now he not only knew what he had to, he also knew how to do it.

 

Arleen, Bruce, Gene and Suzanne

By 1987, Bruce was ready to become a full time cattle and pecan farmer, so he took early retirement from Amoco and he and Arleen moved to Schulenburg to stay.  The original 10 acre pecan grove, planted in 1987, was added to year by year to reach its current 40 acres.  Over the following years, their new home and many other things were added to the farm.  The man of action remained in motion, even in retirement.

But, what, you may ask did Bruce do in his spare time. He kept up with just about everything. Examples:

++ Computers-Bruce was up on all the latest features and used this in every aspect of the cattle and pecan businesses.

++ Stock Market - Bruce and Arleen followed it closely; Bruce read the Wall Street Journal every day.

++ Schulenburg Shorthorns. - Bruce may have been, next to his close friend and neighbor, Forrest Dittrich, the leading authority on how the home team could win the state football championship.  He seldom missed a game.

++ Politics-Bruce was definitely a conservative and could convince many, but not all, family members and friends of the wisdom of his thinking.

++ Trees, in general- Bruce’s love of trees was not limited to pecans. He studied and planted a wide variety of trees in the 'arboretum' in their front yard and all around the farm.

++ Bird Watching- Bruce observed and admired birds, with the exception of crows, who were a constant threat to the pecan crop. He did what he could to wipe them out, but with limited success. It wasn't that he admired crows less; he simply admired his pecan crop more.

++ Family Reunions-Bruce and Arleen hosted a large Cousins Reunion and numerous mini-reunions at the farm. Bruce was in the middle of Sterling gatherings at the Smokies, Durango, Cloudcroft, and Big Bend Park. He initiated a family trip to Big Bend this spring, before becoming too ill to participate.

 

Big Bend

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Shaggy Dog Story about Tiger

  Shaggy Dog Story about Tiger

 

Tiger

 

If I had decided to adopt a dog, a shaggy, Papillon (Squirrel dog or Ghost dog) would not have been high on my list.  I might have chosen a golden retriever or a border collie.  At least something a little more macho than one of these little "lap dogs," bred for royalty in Europe.  But, now we have one.

Meet Tiger

He showed up at our door and adopted us.  It was raining and the little dog was cold, wet, scared, shaggy, and hungry. Against what we thought was our better judgment, we took him in, warmed him up, and fed him a boiled egg and some bacon — we had no dog food.  "We will find his owner or something tomorrow," we thought.  But, he had fleas so we placed him back outside when the rain stopped. We advertised on our neighborhood website that the owners could find him here.  But there were no replies. The next day we washed, treated him for fleas, and took him to the vet to check for implant ID.   No luck.   So, if anyone wants a very cute, intelligent, and loving Papillon-like, canine, we have one for you. Otherwise, he may just stay in Pat’s warm lap and keep her smiling.

I actually first saw Tiger as I was driving home.  He was running down the middle of our road in the company of two other dogs.  The two dogs were obviously neighbor dogs who left this small pack to return home as I approached in my car.  Tiger was apparently lost, but he kept running and running down the center of the road while ignoring the fact that I was approaching in a car.  He was definitely not car smart.  I felt very sorry for him but assumed that maybe he was in the process of finding his way home, so I pulled over onto the shoulder of the road to pass around him.  Then, I could see him following far behind me in my rear-view mirror -- still running.  "Good luck, little dog," I thought as I pulled into our driveway.  The next day, Pat saw Tiger trotting across the driveway.  A day later, he showed up at our door, and you know the rest of the story.

Separation anxiety 

When I am in our home, Tiger stays very close by -- usually lying down with his back against our rear door so he will know when I leave the house.  Yes, he is a guard dog.  He guards the back door so I cannot escape the house without his knowledge.  Inside, he sleeps very close to me so that he will wake me when I leave the room to follow me wherever I go.  As it has turned out, my bedroom also serves as a dog kennel.  Every evening, Tiger becomes impatient for me to open my bedroom door and his cage door, where I feed him a treat after he enters the cage.  Then he is happy to be locked in and can relax for the night.  Sometimes, during the night he whimpers softly.  So I speak a few words to him so that he knows I am present in the dark, and he is comforted.

When I go for a walk in the woods, he feels much less constrained.  He leaves my side to hunt armadillos, squirrels, neighbor cats, deer, possums, snakes,  lizards, and such -- ranging far and wide across our 20 acres.  But, he will not advance within 30 yards of a raccoon, even if it is dead.  Why?  I don't know.  However, he hunts but seldom seems to actually catch and eat anything.  But, he did catch and eat a gopher.

Squirrel Dog

 He will sometimes cross our fence line onto our neighbor's property but seldom stays long.  He strikes fear in the hearts of armadillos as he chases them into their burrows, then stands by the entrance and barks until tiring of the game.  But, if he corners a possum, he barks a lot but does not attack directly.

Tiger can usually find me no matter where I am on our miles of trails.  When in doubt, he heads for home.  But, his need for freedom to hunt and explore never exceeds his need for my company.  After 10 or 15 minutes of separation from me, he becomes more and more anxious to find me.  After a separation of 10 minutes, he usually can find me anywhere on our 20 acres -- maybe by following my scent.  After he finds me, he usually exhibits his joy by running past me as fast as he can.  As if to say "Ha, ha, ha, you can try to hide from me but I will always find you.  You cannot escape." 

Little Dog

There are certain advantages of having a dog that weighs only 12 pounds.  Their barking voice is too soft to annoy neighbors very much, it requires less expensive food, takes up little room, fits easily on a lap, and is easy to pick up for petting or moving.

When Tiger first arrived, I wondered if he might choose to wander, get lost, and never find his way back.  But, apparently, once he chose me as his alpha human male, Pat as the source of unconditional love, and with an abundance of tasty, nutritious food, he became less and less likely to wander. The exception was that he once attempted to follow me out the gate and down the road.  So, I had to confine him before leaving.  According to Pat, he whines and moans when I leave him at home, and displays a happy dance when I return.  

One day when he was hunting alone in the woods, I decided that he would not know if I drove without him to our neighbor's house.  But, somehow he knew that I was gone and began his search.  When he left our gate and reached our road, he turned right when I had gone left.  He showed no fear of a speeding pickup truck -- which had to stop to keep from running over him.  Anxiously witnessing this adventure from my neighbor's driveway, I quickly drove back home.  He followed me safely back home where he was tied up.  It was I who learned the lesson -- not the dog.  How do you teach an ignorant little dog to fear traffic on the road?  One partial solution was not to keep him from traffic but to expose him as safely as possible.  He now mostly avoids the road.

His previous unknown owners must have been taught "sit", "stay", "twirl" and sometimes "down" (if the command is vocalized in a deep, loud, serious voice) and he tends to follow well on a leash.  He usually responds to "come in" if I'm standing in the door, or a "get in" invitation when I'm seated in the pickup, motorhome, or Polaris
Ranger.  He especially enjoys riding in the Ranger with the wind blowing in his face.  However, if he becomes excited about something, verbal commands seldom work, but a loud whistle will usually stop him in his tracks.  However, we are not dog trainers so we have no interest in teaching him to roll over, walk on two legs, or do other such tricks.

Trauma

He does sometimes experience some traumatic-like condition that does not appear to be related to his separation anxiety.  As I was taking him to the vet for the first time, he began a nervous shake all over and appeared to fear that something horrible was about to happen.  I pulled off the highway and set him on my lap while I drove.  It seemed to relieve him a little, but he still seemed to be very much afraid.  He continued to shake while the doctor examined and treated him.  He did not really relax until he returned home.  Unfamiliar places still sometimes trigger this nervous, shaky response.  I can only wonder what events might have happened to him before he adopted us or if he is just naturally anxious and somewhat neurotic.

He does have one disturbing habit.  When he becomes playful or excited he will jump up on us with his claws unsheathed.  The vet trimmed his nails and I have ground them down, but he still sometimes playfully scratches us until the blood runs.  Our working solution is to keep bare skin away from him when he becomes excited.  Also, I refrain from playing games with him in the house that makes him too excited and dangerous.

Sometimes, when he is very happy, he will run in circles as fast as he can.  And, Papillon dogs are also known as "Ghost Dogs."  I understand because he was sometimes seen to appear out of nowhere.  I have been known to whistle loudly for him to return home from the woods, only to turn around and find him standing there.  Yep, he is a ghost.

Otherwise, he is certainly a good-natured, smart, friendly, cuddly, sweet, playful, inquisitive, brave, and energetic, a dog who loves to run and race the Polaris ranger.  

Therapy

As much as Tiger may need some therapy to minimize his traumas, little does he know that he provides a sort of therapy for us.  Pat is 84 and I'm 86 and we more and more enjoy comfort over excitement.  Thus, we enjoy staying at home here in Pat's National Park.  It is truly a handsome 20 acres, filled with miles of trails, interrupted with meadows, glens, a hill and a dell, Senderos, big trees, nature, wildlife, a garden, an orchard, relative quiet, and a stream,  As far as we know, we can identify all the trees, shrubs, animals, native grasses, ferns, flowers, and many of the insects, weeds, and such.  It provides a near-perfect habitat for Tiger's roaming and hunting pleasures.  All of this provides a calming therapy for us.  Tiger's presence simply adds to whatever therapy we may need.  Thanks, Tiger!

The lure of "faraway places with strange-sounding names" still haunts me.  We will never be able to visit all the interesting places in this world, but we have already visited so many of them during our lives so that it become less and less important to visit all of them -- largely because it is fundamentally impossible.  So, we have a motorhome to explore maybe less exotic stateside locations -- that we can use when we feel housebound.  And, Tiger also accepts it as his home away from home too.

House Trained 

Tiger is considerate.  He poops off the trail, in the woods where humans seldom tread -- when we go for a walk.  Good boy!  He also marks weeds, shrubs, and trees to delineate his self-proclaimed territory -- even when his urine tank has mostly gone dry.  So far, he has seldom messed up our home.  A major exception happened when he became overly excited playing in the house with my brother Scott's dogs in Georgia, and he marked Scott's couch and chair.   Bummer!

He befouled our pickup and motorhome when he threw up from motion sickness. Even months after these events, there is still a faint odor of dog puke when I enter our truck.  Tiger still sometimes suffers from motion sickness when we drive city streets in our pickup, but seldom ever becomes sick when traveling in our motorhome.  City driving with lots of stops and turns is especially nauseating to him.  We sometimes feed him a sedative, but it is usually a waste.

I'm not sure why I named him Tiger.  It just seemed to fit his hunting instincts.  However, the name seems to elicit expressions such as "Never wake a sleeping tiger," "Hold that tiger, hold that tiger," or "I've got a tiger by the tail."  Of course, a real tiger might eat this little dog in one bite, so the name is simultaneously ridiculous and easy to remember.  However, I have been known to claim that we named him "Tiger" because he eats tigers for breakfast.  Nobody has yet provided evidence to the contrary.

Shaggy Dog Stories

"A long, rambling, pointless story or joke, especially one with an absurd punchline" -- is one definition of a shaggy dog story.  Writing a story about a "shaggy dog" might also deserve this appelation but I hope this story does not deserve the first definition.  

My History with Dogs

I grew up with dogs.  There was Thunderhead, Big Lady, Little Lady, and Max.  The first three dogs shared my joy of wandering and hunting the woods and pastures of west Edinburg when I was a young teenager.  They also functioned to scare the bejesus out of any stranger who came walking by our house.  Max (part Beagle) came later in my life -- after we moved to College Station and then had 3 kids.  When I took a one-year sabbatical to Queensland, Australia, we left Max with my parents in Schulenburg.  A letter from my parents explained that Max had wandered onto a neighbor's property where he had been shot dead in the head.  Losing a family pet like that was very painful and likely played some role in choosing to not adopt another dog during much of my life.

Brian, Max, and Pat

 

After Max, we had no other pet dogs for maybe 54 years or so.   A dog just seemed to be a complication that we did not need in our busy, traveling lives.  Consequently, we had no plans to add such a complication -- until Tiger accidentally came into our lives.  Now, it seems to be such a natural thing to do at this point in our lives.  Yes, there are costs and benefits of owning a dog, but now the benefits seem to outweigh the costs so much that it is difficult to imagine life without him. 

So, what is the moral of this story?  Well, I'm glad that every time the weather becomes cold and wet, cute, hungry dogs don't show up at our door or we might have adopted a pack of them by now.  Dogs certainly have a way of capturing your sympathy and affection.  In Tiger's case, we both feel that we are better off for this accidental meeting on our front steps in the cold and rain -- in spite of his sometimes neurotic behavior.

But, was it really an accidental event or was it pre-planned by some canine God or something?  Who knows?

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