A Night to Remember
Tom Noonan had been buying cattle for me in the state of Sonora Mexico for several years. Sonora is a mostly semi-arid desert environment. Tom would buy the cattle I needed by dealing directly with Mexican ranchers and would seal the deal with a $5 per head down payment. He wouldn’t pay the remaining amount due until the cattle were on the American side of the border.
Tom wanted to be a partner with me this time where he would buy 1,000 head if I could find a pasture that would hold a 1,000 head in California. I said “the foothills of the San Joaquin Valley have some really good ranches that take pasture cattle for the green grass season.” He said “that sounds good to me” so with the shake of our hands and we were partners. Tom would put the cattle together in Mexico and I would find a home for them in the San Joaquin Valley. It didn’t take too long before I was able to find a home for all of them for the grass season near the town of Merced. I called Tom and told him that I had found a good ranch for the cattle. He replied I’ll have the cattle to the Mexican side of the border at Nogales Mexico in early November and we’ll cross them into Nogales, Arizona. A date was set. I took a commercial flight to Tucson Arizona where Tom would meet me and we would drive on down to Nogales and cross the cattle the next day.
Nogales is almost 4,000 feet above sea level so the weather can be varied from hot to cold on any given day in November. Our crossing day was chilly in the morning and there were already 500 or so Sonora crossbreeds steer calves that weren’t ours, but ours would be similar, that had already crossed to the American side of the border. These Mexican calves weigh about three hundred pounds. Their Brahma and English blood all mixed together constitutes a Sonora Crossbreed. Our cattle were due to start crossing about noon and would be what they call dipped and scratched on the Mexican side. The calves would pass through a holding chute where they would be stopped for but a minute while a Mexican Veterinarian on one side of the chute and on the other side would be an American Veterinarian. As each calf passed between them they would look for any cuts or sores and if there was a sore then a special gate opened and that calf was rejected and kept in the Mexican corrals. All the rest of them would walk down a narrow passageway to a narrow cement trough that was perhaps 40 feet long 6 feet deep. As each calf reached edge of the trough that was filled with water and a pesticide to kill any pests that might be trying to hitch a ride to the U.S. Most jumped into the dip voluntarily but those that balked were pushed in the trough that was six feet deep, enough so they had to swim a few yards before they put their feet on the exit ramp. This is where workers with forked sticks would push their heads under so as they exited they were thoroughly wet to the skin. In front of them was a corral that would hold two or three hundred calves with a concrete floor where the dip would run off and then return to the dipping vat.
It was about 5 O’Clock when all our cattle were in the drying process when I took the time to look around and see how much of a weather change we were having. From a temperature that was in the high fifties when we started, it had gone down to almost freezing and the wind was blowing and it looked like it might snow. Tom and I both noticed that some of the calves were starting to shiver as many were still wet to the skin. We had been going at a rapid pace all day and we were both hungry. I said to Tom “Let's go into Nogales and get some dinner.” We were both anxious as to the condition of the calves so we ate at a fast food joint wolfed down a hamburger and Tom said “let’s go, I smell trouble.” As we walked outside it had just started to snow not hard but just the same it was getting colder by the hour. The drive back to the crossing corrals took half the time it did to go. We pulled up to our three corrals and there was no hay in the hay bunks and two or three calves were laying down on the snow covered ground. I walked up to one that was lying down and I stuck my finger in his mouth and it was quite cold. We both knew in a minute that if we didn’t make some Herculean effort we could lose half or more of the herd.
The first question to be answered was what would we need to do, to salvage a “going broke cattle partnership before it got started.” Tom spoke fluent Spanish so he would get ten or so workers and 100 pounds of sugar, probably another 100 pounds of Burlap sacks , 8 dose syringes, 3 or 4 Lassos to catch and hold calves that were still standing then give each calf a dose of sugar water. It was about the only energy source that at 7pm might help and Tom could buy. Next we had to find shelter where we could get the worst ones out of the weather. Tom left me with our workforce as he went to look for shelter. He was gone for perhaps 15 minutes and was back to say that in the dark not 40 or 50 yards away was a row of box stalls. There were 8 stalls all were empty, left over from a gone broke race horse business. We had, if I remember right, two flashlights and Tom had a couple of blankets that he kept in his pickup in case he got stuck somewhere in Mexico. I cut them up with my pocket knife as Tom said “I’m going back to Nogales to get more flashlights and the rest of our needs.” I didn’t question where he was going to get a box full of batteries and flashlights and all our other needs at this late hour but I was sure he would as I watched his tail lights disappear into the snow that was starting to stack up everywhere. While Tom was gone, me and my workers in my broken Spanish I told them to go in pairs, then any calf they found laying down they were to lift them up, scrub them with a piece of blanket till they were somewhat dry then take them to one of the box stalls. About an hour had passed when Tom returned with a dozen or so flashlights and lots of batteries and other needs. Now we could see all over the pens and it wasn’t a pretty sight as one calf after another would just slowly kneel down and then roll over on its side exhausted. Tom, I said “we need more help to move the calves that are laying down and carry them to the box stalls.” It was now 11 or 12 o’clock. Tom said “I’ll get some but it’s going to cost extra.” It wasn't long and Tom was back with I think six more workers and it was time to explain to everybody that if they would stay all night we would pay them double their normal wage. With that the tempo picked up considerably and we had a rhythm going as we were taking any calf that was down, put a rope behind their tail and two guys could whisk the calf into one of the box stalls, give them sugar water, dry them, then lay them down on some hay that Tom was also able to find.
It’s now about 2am in the morning and it has stopped snowing. What a relief but calves were still going down, but at a slower pace. We weren’t saving them all as we had a pretty good pile of dead ones. At around 4am Tom and I looked at each other and I said “I think we’re going to get out of this wreck alive and Tom said I think your right partner.”
With the first light of day the storm was gone and the first rays of sunlight began to warm our spirits and lots of calves were now getting to their feet and looking for something to eat. I don’t know why the calves weren’t fed the day before but the hay truck has just now arrived to fill all the hay bunks. While me and my new found friends that had worked so hard all night, I’m sure they found a lot of satisfaction knowing that they saved possibly several hundred calves from “the give ups.” Tom had one more job to do and that was to find a field at a lower and a warmer elevation and closer to Tucson where we would let the calves rest and get their bellies full. Tom did even better as he found a hundred acre field of Sorghum that had just been harvested and we could rent it for a week where the calves could recuperate enough for the continuation of their journey to California.
We needed seven trucks to haul the now 900 head a 10% death loss about 40 miles to the stubble. I followed the trucks to the Sorghum stubble field and got them unloaded while Tom paid all the workers in cash and took them all to breakfast. Tom said to me later they all had big smiles as he thanked them all then said “adios amigos.”
Tom and I had been up more than 30 hours and it was time to get a motel room and a few hours sleep. While showering I watched enough poop to start a backyard garden run down my body and out the shower drain. It was time to take the next step and that would be, do we sell the calves now and take our licking? Tom said “hell no.” I said “we’re on the same page.” Tom would stay in Tucson and ship the calves when the week was up and the calves would be strong enough for the last leg of their journey. I caught a flight back to my ranch to get all the vaccines, branding irons, and a crew of six Cowboy friends and their horses to go to the Merced ranch I had rented for the grass season. The first day we roped 600 head and the second day by lunchtime we had done the last 300. I treated them all to a Mc. Donald’s Big Mac and a Pepsi thanked them all and they thanked me for all the good roping fun. I said thanks again as they headed back to their ranches. I stayed on for another day to make sure all was well with the calves.
That year had good rainfall that produced lots of grass and the cattle market even got better. Tom sold the cattle for us and when all was said and done the cattle made some money not enough to pay off the U.S. national debt but enough to prove the old Cowboy saying “never yell whoa in a bad place.”
See Ya,
Jack