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Glen...

I went to Glen Keeleys memorial service a while back. Really sad deal. You see the pain family and friends are experiencing and you remember how it tears your guts out – and you feel so helpless. There is nothing you can say or do to make them feel better.

 And, having experienced it, you know that they will never feel a whole lot better. The sorrow never really goes away. You learn to live with it, but it is there in every quiet moment. There before you drop off to sleep – still there soon after you wake up.

 Sleep becomes the enemy because if you sleep you might dream. You might dream about the person and they are right there and everything is great… then you wake up. You’re happy… and then reality sets in and the pain and sorrow are almost as bad as it was right after it happened.

 But in regards to funerals and memorial services, all a person can do is be present… to show people how much that person meant to you, too. That he did make a difference in your life. That his life, though cut short, accomplished a lot.

 I don’t know how many people were at the service, but it had to be a thousand or more. Lots of Americans who had dropped everything and either caught an expensive flight or drove two days straight through… just to pay their respects to Glen’s family and friends.

 And then there were the Canadians. While they often feud and fight over really trivial stuff, in times like this they show how solid they really are.

 They are a big family. They watch little kids start on calves, move up to steers, and graduate to bulls. Then they see those people start families and do the same thing.

 They have a great emotional investment in all their cowboys. They’ve watched them grow up and they get to see them compete as professionals a lot more than we do. Our rodeos are scattered all over the place. 

One of the things I remember most about going down the road are the times I spent in the care of other guy’s families. They took me in like one of their own. There are some great rodeo families. Generation after generation who have given their sons and daughters to rodeo.

 The thing I respect most about Canadians is that their families are even closer knit. I have been around a few Canadian families –

the Claypools….

the Johansens…

the Daines…

 All were super families. And the Keeleys were super-super close.

 The second thing I admire is that Canadians are proud to be Canadian. It takes some of them a while to realize it, but eventually they all do.

 The third thing I admire is that Canadians are proud to be cowboys. They are the strong fabric that rodeo is held together by.

 Listening to the speakers at the memorial service, I learned a lot about the personal side of Glen. Stuff I never knew. Being around guys at rodeos, you only get to see part of that person. But, over time, if you watch closely enough, you can sometimes tell a lot about their families just by the way they approach a very dangerous profession.

 You can tell those who grew up with love and in a good morals and values environment.  Those with right and wrong and integrity bred into them. Those with a great sense of family.

 Glen was special in all those regards. It seemed to me that, although he loved bull riding and gave it 100% every time he nodded, family came first with him.

 The first time I saw Glen Keeley ride was at Denver and he spurred a wild, waspy sucker. I mean – he went at him. He answered every move that bull made. He wasn’t just hanging on hoping for the best.

 He reminded me of another bull rider from up in that country I’d seen ride at Denver a couple of times when I was in junior high school. John Dodds. Rode great…. And like Glen, if he was riding good, he was spurring.

 The last time I saw Glen ride – was on a PBR telecast. A barrel racer friend of my wife called an told her to hurry and turn on TNN – that there was a heck of a bull riding going on. She clicked it on and the first person we saw ride was Glen. He rode Jerry Nelson’s CL – an A-TEAMER or a BIG E – whatever you choose to call him – that sucker bucks hard. And Glen rode him. Took it to him. Wasn’t just hanging on.

 The image I will always have of Glen is the camera close-up of his face when he got off that bull.

Relief.

Happiness.

Pride.

Satisfaction.

 Probably a mix of all four. It brought tears to my eyes because I was so happy for him. I knew how much he loved to ride bulls. For him to be riding at his age at that level of the sport and excelling – well, that was a wonderful thing to see.

I never saw Glen Keeley not ante. Not once. Not ever. That is the greatest compliment you can pay a bull rider…. The greatest compliment you can pay a man or woman.

My wife has a good understanding of God and religion. I’m a slow learner, I guess. She assures me that people who die here are in HEAVEN – in a better existence. I just know how it feels to be here without them. Even though I kind of understand the concept that no one really ever dies – I still hate death. I hate it.

I’ve come to believe there are no ACCIDENTS. It seems to me that there must be a script somewhere beyond human comprehension.

I wonder if before a person is born if their soul has any say as to what life they will have. If that were true, and GOD had laid it all out in front of Glen….

“Here’s the deal… you are going to live here… these people are going to be your family… these people are going to be your friends… you are going to love these people… you are going to be loved by these people… you are going to achieve these things… you are going to experience these hardships… and when you are thirty you’re going to die doing what you love. Take it or leave it.”

I’d have to think that guys like Glen would take that deal. To live where he did, have the family that he had, have the friends he had, love like he did and be loved like he was, touch so many lives in a positive way like he did… and then get to ride bulls and be good at it… it would be worth it.

And if there is any consolation for his parents it would be that they enjoyed this wonderful person for thirty years. He was a good son, a good grandson, a good brother, a good brother-in-law, a good uncle, and a good friend.

He brought lots of happiness into the lives of others. I doubt if a parent could make that same deal with GOD, though. The pain is just too great. I can’t comprehend the depth of that sorrow.

For the rest of the bull riders if there is a lesson to be learned from this tragedy it would be that how you look… how you conduct yourself… how you compete… how you relate to and treat other people… is important.

Living your life with character and integrity is more important than anything. Whether you ever win a dime means very little in the overall scheme of things.

One person CAN make a difference. A quiet, introspective young man, Glen Keeley touched many lives from little kids to grandparents. By the example he set, he made their lives better. Glen Keeley made a difference. You can too.

I still get a lump in my throat when I hear the Garth Brooks song “The Dance”. It makes me remember Lane Frost being in that video. Then I recall the expressions on the faces of his best friends who were there when he went down and never got up. Lane always got up.

 At his funeral, I witnessed the pain his family, friends, and fans experienced. It was the same pain I saw the other day at a small community center somewhere in the hills south of Calgary. That never changes.

Glen and Lane were alike in a lot of ways. I don't think either would have missed...

“The Dance”.

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