Drive a Bus, Shoe a Horse – She Can Do
Both
by Kathryn
Urick
Published
Elder Teller
If I live to one hundred and four, I’ll never forget this morning’s trip on Cy-Ride … in the pouring down rain! When I boarded, nearly all seats were occupied by students going to summer classes.
My bus driver was Norma Newton, a lovely young lady. I watched in wonder at how Norma controlled that big hunk of motorized steel. (Who said women are the weaker sex?). She threaded her way through traffic, up and down hills, around corners, yet I felt very comfortable – Norma had things well in hand. Norma lives with her husband and two children on a small acreage near Kelley which is also a wonderful home for their three horses, Lucky, Chief, and Cheauteau.
Norma talked about their horses. Her children didn’t take their eyes from her face as she told many fascinating things about their beautiful Arabian and Palominos.
Norma rides Lucky in Veishea parades. She and her husband also take part in Competitive Trail Riding. This is not a race; the winner is the horse that covers a given distance in the best condition.
The bus soon became empty, but there were two teenagers still on as we reached a stop for a ten-minute wait. Conversation then began between mom and “kids” … and it was then I learned Norma is a farrier, a horseshoer. The conversation became contagious; my father was a blacksmith, which means in addition to shoeing horses, he sharpened plowshares, replaced steel-rim tires on large wagon wheels, as well as rubber tires on buggies. He was a fixer of many things. In addition, my dad must have formed hundred of finger-rings from horseshoe nails for the kids who “on their way home from school, looked in at the open door.” (Quote from The Village Blacksmith Shop).
I spent many childhood days in my father’s shop so Norma and I talked about some of the tools used by a horseshoer. I remembered about the tool called the “twitch which was placed on the soft part of the horse’s nose, then twisted to enforce good behavior. I never liked to see it used as I was sure it brought great pain to the horse.
“Oh, no,” exclaimed Norma. “This action serves to help the body produce a chemical which acts a s an anesthetic and actually calms the horse. Did you ever notice the horse’s eye become droopy and sleepy looking?” What a happy surprise to me! ALL MY LIFE I have worried about the pain incurred.
Childhood memories began to invade my mind and I remembered that a friend of mine once said that “memories are what ties the past to the present.”
Of course, the poem “The Village Blacksmith” is one of my favorites and I began to think of some lines: “And the muscles of his brawny arms were strong as iron bands; He goes on Sunday to the church; He hears the Parson pray; He hears his daughter’s voice singing in the village choir.” My father was very special to me and those memories were working hard a bringing a “tinge of sadness” to my eyes.
This bus ride was most enjoyable. I’m glad I took bus #1411. I am thankful for Cy-Ride in our town, and most of all, I appreciate all these wonderful memories that crowded right into the beginning of another busy day, thanks to Norma Newton, her children Benjamin and Julia, and #1411.
Time and space always seem to take a toll, which leads me to my conclusion and the last verse of “The Village Blacksmith” by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.
“Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend,
For the lesson thou has taught!
Thus at the flaming forge of life
Our fortunes must be wrought;
Thus on its sounding anvil shaped
Each burning deed and thought.”