The Rice Family: The Middle Years

A few months ago I wrote a post about the early years of Brush Ranch and how my grandparents met and their love story. Well, it’s time for round two, a time period I’ve so cleverly named “The Middle Years.” If someone can come up with a better name, you’ll win a prize!

Today is my parent’s 38th wedding anniversary, so I thought it would be appropriate to tell their love story and share a bit of their history.

My mom grew up in the panhandle of Texas, in a small town called Quanah. She was one of 5, three girls and two boys. Her father (my grandfather Bill) ran a John Deere store and sold farm equipment to all the farmers in the area. Her mom, Betty, had her hands nice and full raising 5 kids!

My dad was born in Oklahoma and lived in Borger, Texas until he was about 6, when his family moved up the Pecos Canyon. Ironically, Borger is only about 160 miles from where my mom was growing up at the same time. After attending high school at a boarding school in Colorado Springs, my dad returned to New Mexico and studied a few years at the University of New Mexico in Albuquerque.

In the early 70s, my grandparents started the Brush Ranch School as a way to utilize the Brush Ranch property all year around. The school was a boarding school for children with learning differences. At the time, my dad was working for his parents at the Ranch and my mom had just earned a degree in special education from the University of Texas.  Scotty interviewed Kay and told his dad to hire her. Was it love at first sight?!

Mom and dad fell in love on the banks of the Pecos River…or, in reality, probably sneaking around in the dark trying not to get caught by anyone–you see, it was somewhat against the rules to be dating an employee…dad! My mom was living in cabin #2, a tiny little cabin that had one bedroom (hers), a bathroom and another room dedicated solely to typing, it was “the typing room.” It was near the dining hall and kitchen and my dad said the only person who knew he and my mom were together was the cook, because he’d show up super early in the morning for a cup of coffee before returning to his cabin to get ready for the day. The sneaking ended, and they were married June 5, 1976 in the First Presbyterian Church in Quanah.

Mom and dad on their wedding day. It’s CRAZY how much my dad looks like my youngest brother in this photo!

My grandmother, Betty, with my mom on her wedding day.

I had to throw in this pic of my mom and me on my wedding day…just for comparison sake. (Photo courtesy Kip Malone)

From left to right: Bill, Betty, mom, dad, Kitty, Newcomb.

And again, for comparison, from left to right: my mom, Patrick, me, dad, and Betty (mom’s mom), on our wedding day. (Photo courtesy Kip Malone)

The stories of their wedding are pretty fantastic. I think my favorite is the story of my dad and his side of the wedding party actually getting to Quanah. They took the Brush Ranch School bus, complete with driver and headed to Quanah. They took out several of the seats and installed a keg and a poker table, so they wouldn’t have to stop! I would guess they all came rolling out of that bus stinking of booze and god knows what else. It’s a wonder they made it at all!

After they got married, they moved into cabin #4, down by the river, later known as the nurse’s cabin. They lived there for several years and in 1979 completed construction of the house I grew up in. My parents had several friends who were contractors and the building of that house was a true group effort by many kind hands. It was a great house, made of actual adobe bricks (unlike many of the pueblo style houses that are build today that are just frame with stucco).

My older brother was born in 1980, and somewhere between him being born and me showing up, my mom obtained a master’s degree from UNM in special education. I made my grand entry in 1983…surprise!! (I later found out that I was the “mistake” child…but that I’m loved no less because I wasn’t planned. Clearly, I’m the best child. Ha.) Our youngest brother was born in 1988 and was actually the first of 4 cousins born that year on my mom’s side of the family. They are still referred to as “the 88’s,” which quickly turned to, “the idiots.”

But I digress…My parents took over full time operations of the Brush Ranch Camps, and focused completely on that in the mid to late 80’s, losing all affiliation with the Brush Ranch School. They were very involved in the American Camp Association (My mom was on the board and as such was invited to visit camps in Russia and I went too!  That’s a story for another day), and the Western Association of Independent Camps. They added many programs to expand the camp including Family Camp, which was so much fun for all of us; Adventure Camp, where older campers spent longer times out in the wilderness, hiking, biking, rafting, or horse back riding; and Trailblazers, a one week camp session for kids starting as early as 6 years old. They were extremely good at honoring long standing traditions, like the Devotional services every Sunday morning, while at the same time making sure that camp was all inclusive and that it grew and changed with the country’s trends and the demands of the market. They ran the camp until its close, after the summer of 2004.

My parents worked extremely hard, especially in the summers. Some days they would be at the camp for 17 or 18 hours. But their hard work paid off in the legacy that they left and that Brush Ranch left, this blog has showed me that! So many lives were touched by Brush Ranch, and I can’t help but think that so much of its success is a direct result of the love that my parents have for each other (remember, this is a post about their 38th wedding anniversary!). They are an incredible team and still, to this day, can accomplish anything they put their collective minds to. They have most certainly been at each other’s sides in sickness and in health, in good times and bad (eek! and there have been some high highs and low lows!). They love each other unconditionally, support each other’s goals, respect each other, laugh and cry together, and they absolutely cherish each other.

I am honored to wish them this very public happy anniversary and can say, with confidence, that their love is an inspiration to me in my relationships (especially with Patrick), and I am so thankful that they are my parents. Happy 38th wedding anniversary, mom and dad, and here’s to many, many more!