There was a delay as family exited the church into the frigid winter day and loaded into trucks and other vehicles to follow the hearse through the small streets of town onto the main road and finally turn off on to the road the wound it's way up above to overlook the small town from the cemetery. It was only 8 degrees midday and as engines warmed and eyes were wet in remembrance of the life and memory of a dear father, grandfather, great grandfather, uncle, cousin, brother, and friend, the local vet astride his horse led a riderless horse.
The worn old saddle sat empty on the back of the old bally horse that day as it plodded through the still streets of the small town. The sheriff and his deputy blocked traffic on the only road that enters and exits the town that was his home for 79 years.
Strangers with last minute Christmas shopping on their minds at the general store. Recreation enthusiasts unloading their snowmobiles from their truck beds and trailers as they looked forward to blazing trails in the pristine powdery snow of the majestic Windriver Mountain range. Visitors traveling through the small, rustic, western Wyoming town on their way to celebrate Christmas with family and friends. All sensed and saw the moment of reverence and honoured a great man as the hearse he rode in took him on his final journey.
As the riderless horse was led up to the cemetery through the town, all stopped their activity and lowered cowboy hats over their hearts in reverence and honour as first the horse and then the hearse and then what seemed like an endless procession of family and friends made their way to pay final respects to his final resting place here on earth. The line of cars was still leaving the church parking lot and inching it's way through the small town past the general store and up the road overlooking the town as the horse stopped and the hearse was unloaded next to a headstone with his wife's name on it. So great were the numbers of those who made the winter journey just two days before Christmas to honour a great man who spent his life with a smile on his face and a laugh in his belly and a story, advice or uplifting message to share in his heart next to the corral fence, out in the back forty or around the kitchen table laden down with vittles.
Gone but not forgotten is an understatement. Gone on ahead to blaze trails at the great ranch in heaven. He left behind his own brand of understanding and lived so we can all remember. "
Let the light of your fire shine before men so that they can see the great things you do and praise the Boss in heaven."
Unhobbled
In Memory of Richard Roy Noble
by Andy Nelson
Lord, how can heaven be any better,
than what I have had right here;
I spent my whole life, amidst joy and strife,
With most of my loved ones near.
I love this ranch, my family, and friends,
And I'm truly a blessed man;
You let me serve, and at times observe,
Thy hand in this mortal plan.
As I spent my life studying the horse,
I grew much closer to thee;
then you taught me how, to care for a cow,
And also a family.
You allowed me to live as free as rain,
But you never ceased to guide me;
From my first breath, through life and through death,
You walked each step beside me.
It's been a challenge and as I have aged,
I've been hobbled to this shell;
But it's time to leave, and not time to grieve,
I come before thee to dwell.
But Father, before we have to depart,
I ask this favor in kind;
Bless my little ones, my daughter and sons,
And those that I leave behind.
It might be nice if my cow dog was there,
And maybe a horse to ride;
I don't ask a lot, but I hope you got,
Some cows on the other side.
I am ready now to see my Savior,
I know he died that I might be;
As loved ones meet me, and others greet me,
I'm unhobbled now and free.
This was the life sketch read at the funeral
THE SEASONS OF DICK NOBLE
The Star of Bethlehem shines brightly across the Cora Valley where it rests peacefully above the old Noble ranch barn, and a sad-eyed collie dog lays upon the stone porch waiting to hear his master’s four-wheeler fire up…
Richard Roy “Dick” Noble was born on December 15, 1936, in Rock Springs, Wyoming to Carroll R. and Christina Noble (whose dad was Pinedale’s first sheriff). He died on December 15, 2015 near Cora, Wyoming at the historic Centennial ranch he dearly loved. We often times pick the day we come into this world and don’t get to pick the day we go out. But, it came to pass, that the Lord picked Dick up the same day he dropped him off, 79 years later. He is preceded in death by his wife, Louise, his baby daughter, Kelly Elizabeth, his mother and father, his brother Mike Noble, and his sister Pat Pearson.
Dick’s early schooling began in the little one-room Cora schoolhouse. On frosty, winter mornings he would arise, catch a good horse, and at a high lope, pull his brother Jim on skis across the snowy flats and come to a sliding stop at the little country school. Pranks were pulled on fellow students and mischief dealt to the teacher, but still the lessons of life were offered for the taking and happily
considered. Later, Dick completed his high school education in Pinedale, Wyoming where he played football and basketball for PHS.
On September 23, 1958, in the little white LDS church near Pine Creek, Dick married the love of his life, Louise Simpson, whom he had met when she worked during the summertime for the Binning family across the meadow from the ranch. They began a courtship which led to 42 years of marriage, five children, thirteen grandchildren, and nine great-grandchildren.
Dick became a member of the LDS Church on October 24, 1963. He and Louise were then sealed for eternity in the Logan, Utah Temple on November 4, 1964. From 1974 to 1981, Dick served as Bishop in Pinedale and thereafter was called to serve on the high counsel of the church. And always with church and faith in mind, Dick loved the workings of the family’s cattle, sheep, and horse ranch, which has raised six-generations of Nobles, and he especially loved the majesty of its wide, open spaces. It was there he could live the teachings of his church by helping those he especially
cared about: the youth of his community. Many kids came and went through those old ranch gates—gates that were always left wide open and welcoming.
The bunkhouse was always alive with youngsters who simply needed a warm bed, a safe haven, a comforting hug, gentle encouragement, and a plate load of Dick and Louise’s tasty vittles. “Just keep makin’ pancakes, Louise; there’s more kids in the bunkhouse this mornin’!” And in the evening time, when the day’s work was done, Dick and Louise loved to watch what they called “the purple
cloak of night” bathe the valley in its magic glow.
Dick loved the mountains and the pack trips the family provided through their outfitting business, the Flying U. And always, in the most remote of wilderness, Dick would find someone along a mountain trail and call him: Friend. He was drawn to people and people to him. One young woman told the family: “Know why I loved your Dad? It’s because he loved me and never judged me.”
One of Dick’s favorite sayings was: “I hate the guys who criticize and minimize the other guy’s enterprise, which makes them rise above the guys who criticize!” And he was fond of saying: “You’ll get happy in the same pants you got mad in or go home and change!”
Dick loved breaking and giving away good saddle horses and work teams—Bally Rabbit, Vicki Gin, Nicky Tom Boy, and a mare called Freddie, and old Ichabod and Billy and Charlie. When his daughter Tina asked him why he did it, he replied, “There’s a lot more good horses that can wear this old saddle and When Louise died in 2000, Dick was left to continue his life on the ranch with his
kids and grandkids. Seven years later, though, he met Margaret Ellen Sims and on July 27, 2007 they were married and sealed in the Ogden, Utah Temple. With great joy, he always liked telling of Maggie’s and his summers of 2008 and 2009 and their handcart mission together at Sixth Crossing near Muddy Gap, Wyoming. Maggie and Dick would dress up in pioneer clothing, all fit and fine,
and share stories of the past with kids known as “trekkers” who attended the event. The youth would re-enact the pulling of the Willy and Martin handcarts, as was done so many years ago, and Dick would saddle up old Bally or Mort or Slick and either follow along or meet along the dusty trail to keep the kids mesmerized with more intriguing storytelling.
Throughout the years, Dick served his community and supported its activities in many arenas. For several years, he was on the board of the Sublette County Community Counseling; he and Louise participated in Rendezvous as an antelope soldier and Indian maiden, who performed the Lord’s Prayer in sign language during many pageants, and for several more years, was a wagon
teamster and an outrider whose job was to stop runaway horseback riders and wagons. He loved the running of the cutters down main street Pinedale in the days of yesteryear. Dick loved sharing the live Cowboy Nativity with the community for 28 years; this tradition will continue. And many folks did not know that Dick loved to pencil sketch; ducks and geese were his favorite subjects. And he especially loved the soothing, peaceful notes of grandson Brandon's cello.
For many years, Dick attended every sporting event he could. From rodeo to school activities, he was every athlete’s grandpa; every student’s biggest fan; every sport’s favorite mascot. He cheered kids when they won and even when they did not, saying, “Pick your heads up, you can do it!” He earned the nickname Chappy, as he always carried a tube of chapstick in his pocket, and it was definitely considered community property. And over the years, there was many a young boy who waited for Dick’s special talk on how to be a man.
In his later years, like Hank the Cow Dog, Dick was designated head of ranch security by his son-in-law, James. Fire up the four-wheeler! Lots of fence lines and livestock to check every day, maybe two times, three times, or more! Hurry, hurry! Busy, busy! Work to be done! And babysitting the little ones was a special time for Dick and his tiny crew. Many, sneaky, between-meal snacks
were gleefully consumed!
Everyone will sorely miss this gentle man who was always there for anyone in need of him and the solace of his company. His neighbors said his word was his bond; a man of integrity. Indeed, Dick was a special man—deep inside—top to bottom—start to finish. He loved his family, his church, and his friends.
Whatever was happening and wherever it was, Dick’s family was always doing it together. This simply made him very happy.
Dick Noble is survived by his wife Maggie and his children and their families:
Rick Noble (Karen/son Brandon (Victoria);
Tina Nelson (James/son Sam (Jamiee/daughter Katie), daughter Mardy Sleight (Keith/children Clairee, Konner, Shonee, Zaydee, and Riggins), son Neal (Nicole/daughter Paige), son Gus;
Pat Noble (Nova/children Caleb, Sarah, Miles, Duncan, Whitaker, and Emerson);
and Rob Noble (Shelli/children Robynn and Joe (Kaci and Rynlie);
Dick’s brother Jim Noble (Margret);
sister-in-law Ruth Noble;
brother-in-law Ben Pearson;
and numerous nieces and nephews.
The Star shines brightly on the old home ranch and a sad-eyed dog waits…
