About Lowell Jessup



 By Tom Spurgen
 
 
           He was raised in Sanderson, dry as a bone 
           One day he decided to break his roan.

           
           The hackamore said it wasn’t much of a fight; 
           On occasion he tied ’em on tight. 
 
           He asked, “Lowell, whatcha gonna do?”
“Let him pack them cages a week or two.” 
 
          “Well, what if you ride and he bucks and don’t run?” 
           “Well I’ll jump off the son-of-a-gun!

When I’m older, I’ll be bolder,
And I’ll job him in the shoulder!” 
 
            “Lowell, you’re gonna fool around and break some ribs. 
             I don’t think you’ll ever make a Casey Tibbs.

From now on I’m hopin’
You’ll stick to your ropin’, 
 
             Practice, practice on your steer-
You may get as good as Toots Mansfield.” 
 
              Sky full of clouds, hills covered with snow,
He was a good roper on Smokey a long time ago. 
 
              Now that’s just really kiddin’ but this is straight talk,
              Lowell would ride a horse where I wouldn’t walk. 

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