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| Picture from Ancestry.com. Click to enlarge. |
Despite the fact he didn't clear his 30s, you still might say Doff Aber lived a full life. Born and bred in Sheridan County (his grandfather came out here from Pennsylvania in the 1880s), Aber grew up on the 61 Bar ranch in Wolf Creek, just north of Dayton. He got his start in Sheridan County rodeos in the late 1920s, later proceeding to ride in the world championship at Cheyenne's Frontier Days.
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| From the July 26, 1927 edition of the Sheridan Journal. Click to enlarge. |
Aber came into the 1927 championship with the "highest average of any rider." In the finals, he drew what was then called a 'spinner,' which meant he would ride his bronc in slippery mud. Man and horse led a fierce dance, crashing into a fence, but Aber held on; the second crash, however, his bronc tossed him into the muck. It wasn't a total loss, though. Despite Aber's loss, the audience vigorously applauded his "beautiful" ride.
Aber went on to Chicago a few weeks later, marking the shift from amateur to professional. In the late 1920s and early 30s, Aber plied his craft, taking his share of spills and enduring tough luck scenarios--while gaining momentum in rodeo circuits around the country.
The summer of 1930 found Aber a fixture in Greeley and northern Colorado, where his success steadily grew; one of those successful competitions happened 88 years ago this very month.
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| From the July 5, 1930 edition of the Greeley Daily Tribune. Click to enlarge. |
1930 also marked the year Aber found love, marrying Dorothy Loveland (neè Harries), a "society girl" from Washington whose parents were staying at Eaton's that summer. As he and Dorothy enjoyed their newfound marital bliss, Aber enjoyed a streak of modest wins as he rode in dozens of rodeos a year, but financial security and renown eluded him.
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| Click to enlarge. Year unknown. |
It wasn't until 1935, eight years on the circuit, that Aber began to receive the recognition he deserved. At a Los Angeles rodeo in August of that year, Aber rode fourteen broncs--nine of which in three days-- sealing his championship with the notorious "Ham What Am." Aber hung on for one more jump than the stiff competition, Earl Those and Pete Knight, winning top honors.
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| From the July 5, 1937 edition of the Great Falls Tribune. Click to enlarge. |
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| From the September 24, 1938 edition of the Billings Gazette. Click to enlarge. |
In 1941 and 1942, the fruits of Aber's labors were realized as he became world champion bronc rider for that pair of years. It was no mere luck, however, that brought him such accolades. Doff Aber became the top bronc rider in the world because of a hard-as-nails work ethic and true grit that would make both Charles Portis and John Wayne blush. In 1941 alone, Sheridan County's home grown bucking bronc champ competed in 38 contests.
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| From the July 26, 1942 edition of the Santa Rosa, California Press Democrat. Click to enlarge. |
Nor was it flashiness that brought this "son of the Northwest" to the zenith of his career. Author Clifford Westermeier, who knew Aber, observed that this particular cowboy "was never a studied or planned showman of the spectacular; in his simplicity and directness of action he always gave a good show." Aber didn't need to put on a show. He rode purely for the pleasure of it and it showed.
Today, rodeo has become a controversial topic in some circles regarding animals' experience. Make no mistake though, Doff Aber, like many rodeo cowboys of his time and beyond, had a deep-founded respect and admiration for their critters--and, perhaps, kindred spirits.
Cited in Westermeier's Man, Beast, Dust: The Story of Rodeo, Aber explains the strangeness when the "Five Minutes to Midnight" suddenly quit bucking one night, with many fearing the legend's days were numbered: "'Old Five Minutes to Midnight' is one of the smartest horses in rodeo. He will bring a man out of the chute with a fast choppy movement and if he doesn't throw him on the first two or three jumps, 'Five Minutes' will slow down to an easy glide.'" He continued, adding that the horse "will turn his head around, take a look at the rider and just like this--" snapping his fingers three times to show how many bucks the horse would take to dump his rider.
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| Click to enlarge. |
You'd think the tough times that plagued his start in the sport would plant some sour grapes, but Aber fondly recalled such times-- or any times in the ring, for that matter--crafting "well-paced" stories.
Part of the draw for rodeo cowboys is the thrill of danger, and it probably was for Aber, too. After riding all those bucking broncs and the blood, sweat and tears in his 17 years in the ring, William D. Aber's life met a sudden end. While working on his Wellington, Colorado dairy farm in May of 1946, he died in a freak accident.
Aber had retired from the rodeo eighteen months prior and was no doubt looking forward to settling down with his third wife, Patricia (neè Cowan), and little daughter on a dairy farm he jointly owned and operated with his father, Perry.
According to the Sheridan Press, when Aber and his sister were taking a new tractor for an inaugural run, it ran afoul of an irrigation ditch, rolling over, injuring her and killing him, probably instantly.
As sometimes happens in historical research, we found variations in the story of Aber's death. A Reno Gazette-Journal obituary reported that Aber had died "while working with a piece of army equipment"; according to FindAGrave.com (via the Sheridan County GenWeb project cemetery records), that piece of equipment was a Jeep. And the Herald and News of Klamath Falls, Oregon, claimed the deadly vehicle was a snow tractor?
Regardless of the minutiae of his death, Aber left this world far too soon at just 38, his new life with his new family cruelly cut short. This year, when you're in the stands cheering on cowboys and cowgirls--or just about to enter the ring yourself-- give ole Doff a tip of your hat. I think that just might make his day.
