In the old Mayfield rodeo arena in Goshen, Ark., in the early 1970s I met Norman Bryant. He had a neat smile, more of a grin that said, “Hey, I’m a nice guy and I hope I can be your friend.” He never lost that smile and I really came to appreciate him.
I always had an ambition to be a professional rodeo announcer and loved being a part of rodeo. Norman wanted to be a rodeo clown. So we both were novice and set out down the road on a path that crisscrossed each other. We worked on some deals that didn’t get any of us rich but it strengthened our friendship.
In 1976, the Rodeo of the Ozarks asked me to lead a wagon trail to Fort Smith, Ark., to meet the bicentennial train headed for Valley Forge. My girls and I made 100 trips over the Boston Mountains to plan that trip. I enlisted Norman, David Dodd, Jerry Delozier and his sons to be my crew and I couldn’t have made finer choices. Those folks got us to Fort Smith.
Norman, David and I made a few rodeo seasons with Pete Ellis. Norman put on a rodeo finals for the American Rodeo Cowboy Association in Bentonville, Ark. His neighbor who was helping him ran off with all the gates proceeds. How Norman ever survived that I never knew.
Over time I had to make a decision to become a rodeo announcer or take care of my own business. So rodeo became less of my life. My girls who rodeoed with me for years took on lives of their own. Plus 2 in the morning is not a fun time to be driving home alone. My wife was a nurse and she worked all the time so I slacked back on announcing.
Over the years Norman and I stayed in touch. He got very busy in charity work – he called it making sure less fortunate kids had Christmas. His idea picked up sponsors and it snowballed.
Then he and his support crew began feeding every worker and stray cowboy during the Rodeo of the Ozarks. That began before another generous friend built us a cowboy building, which is still in action. Three campaigning cowboys arrived at the Springdale grounds on July Fourth and asked where they could take a shower because they had been on the road a week with no baths. We had no place for them to shower. Without hesitation one of his volunteer cooks, a middle age lady, said, “Come with me I have a shower at my house.” She took them home while they bathed she also washed and dried their clothes. That’s the kind of people he had gathered to help him.
Norman is gone now. He fought a brave battle while several things ravished his body but he never complained. We had a nice visit last July and somehow I knew that the Good Lord needed his help up there in the big pasture in the sky. We laughed about some things that had happened.
I was out in west Texas when one of his volunteers called and told me that Norman had died. It was too far away for me to get back and attend his funeral, but Norman and I had had our good talk and he left me with that infectious smile.
God bless all his family and all his friends. Norman Bryant was a lot more than a rodeo clown. Dusty Richards
