Golden at 50 years in ol Wyo!

I thought 50 was significant enough to share some thoughts. That first pic is me at about age 12 or 13 and Joe Bro at 9 or 10. AC! That’s Associated Carpet, our sponsor in North Miami Fla. Joe was really good, good enough at baseball to play up with the big boys. I also played football and soccer in Miami. That’s right, soccer. But baseball was my sport. At 15 I was good enough to make the local American Legion team, my first year in metal cleats! The same summer 1976, the family moved to Wheatland Wyoming. Bye bye baseball dreams.

My first trip to Wyoming was at about age 9, my Grandfather (my step-mother’s father Frank) took my Dad, John Sr., Uncle Dave, Joey and Johnny to hunt deer near Arvada Wyoming…The Michelena Ranch. I remember Grandpa Lempera’s 30.06 knocking Joe Bro on his rear-end while target shooting.  At age 12 he took us back. After earning my hunter’s safety card at a youth camp in the Florida Everglades and getting my Wyo license, I shot my first deer, a forky horned buck as the sun rose over the Wyoming high plains.  I remember it vividly! I also remember my Dad standing on a sage brush covered hill next to Juaquin Michelena asking “how big is the ranch”? He said “as far as you can see”.  Dad was impressed, so was I.  There are photos somewhere, but my Father’s divorce has scattered that evidence to the wind.

Shortly after those experiences, Dad started talking about moving to Wyoming. At that time he was an administrator with Dade County Schools in Miami, one of the largest school systems in the nation at the time. Previously he taught grade school and middle school math…which is ironic considering how inept most of his prodigy are at math.  ANYWAY… Dad’s second job was Director for the NM Recreation Dept., where I spent hundreds of hours playing ball, living free and chasing foul balls. Dad was also a baseball, football and soccer Coach in North Miami.  I remember he had many Cuban immigrants on his baseball and soccer teams that didn’t speak English. Somehow he made it work. I remember picking up players from scary neighborhoods and taking them to practice and games. Dad was color-blind before their was a title for it. He worked with Black and Hispanic Teachers and Coaches, they came to our home for BBQ’s, we went to there’s. Pop was highly respected in those Coaching circles.  Especially as of the Coach of the American Legion Baseball Team Post 67 in North Miami. Championships and extremely successful seasons with many of his players going on to play college and major league baseball. I’m not going  names, name’s you might recognize, only because it would sound like BS to some. But those that know me and are curious, ask me privately.

Dad started looking for a job in Colorado, Wyoming and Montana in 1975. He picked Wheatland Wyoming. Dad and I drove from Miami to Wheatland in a 1972 Gran Torino in late July of 1976. He took a giant pay cut to become a guidance counselor and Asst. Coach. The rest of the family stayed in Fla to sell the house, to come later that fall. I remember being on a hill on I-25 and seeing the lights of Wheatland at at about where highway 34 (Sybille Canyon) intersects. I could see the start Wheatland to West and the other end of town to the East. I remember crying thinking of what we were getting ourselves into. I also remember being welcomed by 3 beautiful teenage girls leading 4 horses to take me on a horseback ride around town to introduce me. Imagine that! Makes me weepy…remembering.

Dad was my Guidance Counselor and football Coach in Wheatland. Dad was “hard-ass”, used to Coaching in big city, big-time programs. My teammates and I had to adjust! I never played for Pop in Miami. Suddenly, everybody knew me in Wheatland.  That in contrast to the anamniote a big city offered. I ended up in his office the first week of school after a fistfight in PE. That was 1976 50 years ago, and that’s when my love for Wyoming really began. Folks in Wheatland embraced me and my family. Here’s a list of first names, you know who you are: Claudia, Mary, Steve, Flint, John A, John H, Wayne, Tony, Marty, Susie, Brenda, Randy, Art, Jimmy, Bobby,  etc. Many of whom are still her and still great friends today.  I think of that era and you good folks often. Dad? He’s 87 year’s old now. He has some significant health issues, but I’m Blessed to still have him to spend time and memories with. Our relationship is complicated. But he’s still my hero. The family moved from Wheatland to Sheridan Wy, in the summer of 1979 when Dad took over for the next 13 years as Principal of Big Horn High School at the base of the Big Horn Mountains.

Fast forward through college at Chadron St and Sheridan College and my radio career takes from Sheridan Wy, to Laramie, to Cheyenne, to Denver. I remember driving my 1981 Honda Accord on I-90 from Sheridan towards Buffalo, to my new gig at KOWB in Laramie thinking “i shall return”! I loved Sheridan, the mountains, the lifestyle, the people, the city pride. It took me 41 years to get back home. Those of you that know this Big Horn Mountain country will understand. Denver was so very good to me and my family. Same house for 30 years, same employer for 27, same Church for 25. But Denver outgrew me long before 2019, when as empty nesters, we pulled up roots and moved back home.

My Wyoming friends will laugh when they hear that my co-workers and friends in Denver thought of me as a Cowboy. I took every excuse to wear my Wranglers, my boots and my Cowboy hat. We didn’t miss Cheyenne Frontier Days for 30 years. We went to every Natl. Western Stock Show and Jefferson County Fair and Rodeo (I love Rodeo). Many of our vacations were spent in the Big Horn Mtns near Sheridan, Centennial, Saratoga and Thermopolis Wyoming, all the time me trying to convince Deb we needed to move. Many a hunting trips when I could draw a Wyo tag. FINALLY, we bought a cabin in the Big Horns with Joe & Judy and later, cuz God heard my Prayers, I was offered a radio gig in Sheridan…Thank you Deb for loving me enough to leave your family and friends and thank you Lord Jesus for Prayer answered!

Don’t get me wrong, I still jones for a beach in south Florida (I have a beach jones as we speak). We’re regulars to Key West and other Fla locals. And I LOVE a good seat at a Rockies game, the KOA Broncos suite, the 16th St. Mall, a concert at Red Rocks, etc! But when someone asks “any regrets”? Or “mountains or beach”?, I respond ” Big Horn Mountains Wyoming” every time! Thank you Jesus for these many Blessings. Thank you family and friends for loving on me and my Family. GOD BLESS!

North Miami’s finest Pitcher and Catcher, Johnny and Joey B!

Grown up Baggett boys in the KOA Radio Suite.

Teenage John B with John A…my first Wyoming buddy. Sporting my first Copenhagen hat. The shift was already on. 

With my Wyoming native Debra.