Dad took great pride in all his children, but it was apparent to all who knew him that he thought his boys were doing the right thing when it came to the Nokota horses. He would sit for hours on end at the kitchen window, watching the yard and as many of the corrals as he could see from there. Then he'd grill the boys when they came in for lunch or coffee about something he might have seen-did that horse in the round pen get feed and water? Did they remember to close the gate behind the barn? Did he see one limping, and was it alright?? And there was always the desire, sometimes spoken, but more often not, to get out there and work the horses and take care of his ranch. To break a team. To build another buggy.

Dad lived a full life. A good life. He was born and lived life on HIS terms on his farm east of Linton, ND and died surrounded by his twelve children, numerous grandkids and extended family. His funeral included a memorable processional from the ranch and a service and burial at St. Michael's Church, which his family helped found. He is now free from the pain that plagued him and is free to watch his boys and precious Nokotas from on high.