By Mike Davis, Idaho, Texas, and now Colorado posted April 7th, 2009
Life as a farmer in southeastern Idaho during the ’50s and ’60s was a struggle. A good farmer would be able to predict which crops were going to bring the best prices, and plant them in the spring. Ultimately nobody really ever knew, so some years would be good and some would not. One good year my father felt like he could afford a new pair of boots and he bought a pair of Tony Lamas. He always said that ‘you never have to apologize for quality’ and was more proud of those boots than any farmer on the Tyhee Flats. From my 11-year old eyes they were about the prettiest thing I’d ever seen too!
Every year, as a male bonding event, and when the crops were in — hopefully before the first real snow — we’d load up the horses and camping gear and head for higher country…into the places where the air was so clean it was sweet on your tongue, and the water in the creeks was still ice cold, no matter how warm August turned out.
That year we picked a site alongside a creek (if it had a name I forgot it years ago), hobbled the horses and started making camp. We didn’t figure that our horses were as smart as they were, and within minutes they had figured out how to run in hobbles, crossed the creek and were well on their way down the dirt road. When Dad saw that, he grabbed a rope, and without thinking ran through that creek with his new Tony Lamas on his feet. Needless to say, they were soaked by the time he returned to camp with the horses. He didn’t say much but you could tell that a poor farmer had just lost one of his prize possessions. All leather, he knew they would dry out, and never be the same special leather-soled boots.
When we returned from our adventure in the mountains, someone told Dad that if he’d mail the boots directly back to Tony Lama, they’d rebuild the boots and it wouldn’t cost as much as a new pair. Although it sounded like a tall Idaho tale, he did just that: mailed them back to Tony Lama.
I can’t tell you how excited Dad was to get the boot box in the mail, and to discover his boots, looking brand new. Either they’d just replaced them, or they somehow took them apart and put them back together with some magic…I’ll never know, but Tony Lama made that Idaho farmer…a guy that would be dirt poor this year and walking in tall clover the next, one very happy boy from Idaho…and didn’t charge him one cent!
Thanks Tony Lama. Dad is 87 years old this year. He had to give up raising horses a couple of years ago, yet one of his favorite stories is the one about his brand new Tony Lama Boots…and those darn horses who figured out how to run in their hobbles!
