I never knew his actual name was Bob. I first met him working on the Bicentennial Ride to Fort Smith, Ark., in 1976. Shorty Parson, former president of the Rodeo of the Ozarks, had asked me to head up the wagon train going to Fort Smith to meet the Bicentennial National Wagon Train coming up from Texas and going to Valley Forge. His name was Cotton Clem or at least that’s what I knew him as for over 40 years. He and the bunch from Harrison, Ark., who had been having wagon trains, were big friends and they wanted to go with us on the ride. So we invited them.
Cotton had been around Springdale, Ark., for several years. I was told he cut hair for some time, doctored chickens for Purina, worked for the State as an egg inspector and finished out his career testing cattle for brucellosis. He and his wife, Beth, and family members were in the Cavalcade, who were responsible for getting the horse trails set up in Devil’s Den, when there was talk about not allowing them. Cotton and Beth also rode in the Quadrille for the rodeo.
He and a bunch out at Tonitown broke two of Jerry Henshaw’s slower racehorses to a wagon team. Folks were taking bets they’d run off, but betting against him, they lost. With a fresh painted green wagon, I am certain David Starky was a part of that team. Beth rode as an outrider and her mother and brother, Bill Jetter, rode too. (If I left someone out I am sorry.)
The morning of the wagon train was cold as we were leaving the rodeo grounds. A woman had been hurt when her horse reared over. Paramedics were seeing to her as we left the rodeo gate with a long ride ahead. The day before my partner, Sumner Smith, blew up his truck engine while bringing his son’s and my horse up to Springdale. With it being under 10 degrees and the woman hurt I began to wonder if this was an ill-fated journey for me. Thank Heavens it wasn’t.
Cotton Clem shouted, “Load the cook stove!” Then went into some song about faster horses, younger woman and shouted, “We are going to Fort Smith, ain’t we?”
I said we were as the train of several hundred wagons and riders headed for Prairie Grove, Ark., for our first night stop on the trail.
Over the years Cotton and I became good friends. He even bought me a great horse. We were in the auction business together with Cecil Phillips for several years. Cotton and I did the horse sale over at the National Chuck Wagon Racing Championship for over a decade.
There are so many funny stories that this column would not hold all of them about our auctions and other things we did together. He always laughed, even when we were up to our neck in something serious. He knew every funny/clean story ever told and he could recite them for hours without repeating one.
It was a long, fine friendship and not only myself, but lots of folks will miss Cotton Clem. My heart goes out to Beth and her family. But I can tell you when we go to that great pasture in the sky Cotton Clem will have the camp ready and have lots of funny stories to tell us. I look forward to seeing him. God Bless you and America
Western novelist Dusty Richards and his wife Pat live on Beaver Lake in northwest Arkansas. For more information about his books you can email Dusty by visiting ozarksfn.com and clicking on ‘Contact Us’ or call 1-866-532-1960.
