Death of a Cowman

There are cowboys and then there are cowmen. Malcolm Baldrige was a cowman.

There are cowboys as in the song that implores mommas not to let their sons grow up to be cowboys. These are the hard-riding, loud-talking fellows who drift from ranch to ranch, rodeo to rodeo and girl to girl. Most of their riding these days is in a Jeep or on a bar stool.

Cowmen are quiet pros with weathered faces who know everything there is to know about a cow or a horse and know how important it is to take care of them. They live by seasons: feeding the cows in winter, calving in the spring, up to the mountain pastures in summer and back down in the fall.

These men, and women, don’t talk a lot. When they do talk, they mean what they say. They do not stay indoors if the weather is bad, because the job has to be done regardless. Their hats are sweat-stained. Their boots are dusty. Their word is as good as any contract. When a neighbor is in need, they show up to help without being asked. They may curse the weather or an ornery calf, but they do not complain.

Mac Baldrige was like that, whether in service as President Reagan’s secretary of commerce or out on the rodeo circuit in his spare time. Baldrige’s specialty was steer roping. This is one of the elite rodeo events, and one of those most like real ranch work. One roper catches the cow around the neck while the other slips his loop under the hind feet. The steer then is stretched out for branding, treatment by a vet, or whatever. Baldrige roped hind feet--the hard part.

It was a rare accident that killed Baldrige: His horse reared over backward and fell on him. Cowmen accept such events. Life has its good breaks and its bad. Mac Baldrige had his share of both. A nation grateful for his service mourns a real cowman.