The
Ranch Round Up provides opportunities to make friends and meeting up with old ones, in addition to raising funds for a good cause, or winning a prize for fastest kid running 'round barrels on a stick horse. They have good grub, too, in the chuck wagon event, or so I hear. Of interest to me, too, is the art work on exhibit created by the ranch families, cowboys, and friends. I made my way there to view the art work, without suspecting that I would discover the artistry created by boot-makers, a discovery that I made with a pouch of tobacco.
Indeed, historian Robert Palmer said that one item may lead to another, though unrelated, just as fascinating, item.
At one of the booths at the Ranch Round Up, Old West Collectibles, from Guthrie, Oklahoma, Mr. Balsiger rose from his chair and walked toward a collection of western antiques on the far table. "Lemme give you somethin'. Here's an old pouch, it's very old, of tobacco. The cowboys used to put it in their front shirt pocket, and the string would hang out over the edge. They would reach in there for some tobacco, and they'd roll their cigarettes, just like this," he said, holding his left palm upward, as if holding paper, and pretending to roll a cigarette with his right fingers. "They'd lick the edge and twist each end," he said, bringing the imaginary cigarette to his lips, and then twisting the tips with his index fingers and thumbs, effectively taking me into an imaginary world as brilliantly as a mime would.
He handed me the pouch. "That's for you," he said. It was a cotton bale of smoking tobacco from the Durham company. It was open and empty, the paper band torn, and who knows how many decades ago someone, a poor old soul addicted to tobacco, tore the band and commenced a-rolling a satisfying cig. The string he mentioned was still on it, and it was yellow. It contained, still, a few pieces of leaves, and smelled fragrantly of tobacco -- the only merit of the plant. I thanked him profusely for the opportunity to learn more about a part of history, tragic to the lungs though it might be to those addicted to tobacco.
Durham tobacco pouch, a gift from an Oklahoman historian.
Red Nikon D3200, f3.2, 105mm, -1.33ev, flash, ISO110, cropped in the digital darkroom.
In addition, it is known by the text printed on some of the bands glued around the pouches, that the Red Cross provided the pouches of tobacco to the troops during World War I. They ceased selling pouches by 1980, after quite a long run.
But back at the booth, I turned to Mr. Balsiger's friend and asked her, "Those seven-and-a-halfs?" She sat in a chair next to the white leather boots on the floor, catching her head as it lopped over, trying to keep from falling asleep. Aware of me looking at her, she woke herself up, eyes widened, and said, "Huh?"
"The boots on the floor next to you, are they for sale?" I felt regretful to disturb her sleep and hoped she would welcome having something to do.
"Uh, yeah, and they are seven-and-a-half. Wanna try them on?" she asked, stifling a yawn. "Sit yourself right here," she said, getting up from her chair, "so you can try them on."
Detail of the white leather boots.
Red Nikon D3200, 105mm, f3, 1/200, flash, ISO3200 (forgot to set my ISO to my favorite 100),
slight contrast during post-processing in the digital darkroom.
"How much are they?" I asked, removing my right shoe, aware and embarrassed by the hole in my sock.
The woman turned to Mr. Balsiger, "Say, John. How much are the white boots?"
"What?"
"The white leather boots. How much are they?"
"Seventy-five."
I tried on the boots and, finding them an exact fit and comfortable to my feet, said I would buy them.
"How much are those other old boots?" I said, pointing to a brown pair standing on display on the original box.
"Oh, those are much more expensive," Mr. Balsiger's sleepy friend said.
"How much more expensive?" Both of us looked at him.
"Three hundred and fifty. They're very old. They're from the '20s. I bought them at an estate sale in Nebraska. They're Olsen-Steltzer boots made for Roy Rogers. The owner had a picture of himself wearing them. I bought the picture, too."
"Sounds like they belong in a museum and not on my feet," I said.
"Right. You wouldn't want to wear those boots. You'd want to keep them and not wear them, and then in a few years you would want to sell them back to me," he said.
Intrigued by the boot company that Mr. Balsiger had mentioned, the
Olsen-Steltzer, I wandered around the showroom in an attempt to find their booth, which, of all things, they had set up here. Why a historical, high-quality company that catered to celebrities such as Roy Rogers and whose boots would become museum pieces would travel all the way from Houston or Dallas or whatever big-time town, to sit at a booth for two days, seemed beyond my comprehension, but how ignorant about things I can prove myself!
Founded in Henrietta, Texas, in 1934, the
Olsen-Steltzer began the penchant and flair for creative designs that cowboy boots show these days. At the company website, watch the
old timey video filmed circa 1956 by the Chamber of Commerce of Henrietta. (I couldn't watch past three or four minutes, really, but give it a try.)
Olsen-Steltzer boots customed-designed for an aviator.
Naturally, as an aviator myself, these boots peaked my interest,
though I opted for the more traditional design.
When I reached the booth, I noted the pleasing quality of craftsmanship and artistry. Subsequently, in viewing their website, I reflected -- and this is my own conjecture -- that any vestiges of the "Made in China" reputation, from which the company apparently suffered in the 1980s, disappeared. The quality of workmanship now may hark back to the years when presidents, celebrities, and cowboys bought their boots from Olsen-Steltzer. They still might, and I ought to find out! Today's designs include the traditional stitching, or your own, or the retro look to the '30s and '40s, and Joan Miro, or Picasso, all in high quality craftsmanship.
In spite of the hole in my sock, I asked Tom to measure my foot for my first new, measured to my foot, pair of cowboy boots.
