After I had gained the friendship of Sam Schropp over Facebook, I was truly interested to scroll down to his posts. He would talk about being on a towboat somewhere and then “looking forward to getting back to the center of the universe and my sweet pea.” At that time, his center of the universe was Richmond, Utah
On another post, he would talk about riding horseback out on the open range up and down mountainsides with some cattle in the snow. Obvious to me, at least, he was living a life that many of us can only dream about. I wanted to learn more about how he arrived at this kind of life. Even though he graduated two years behind me from St. Charles High School in St. Charles, Missouri, I had never formally met the guy.
As it happened, his father passed away and he announced on Facebook the details of the funeral. I decided that this is my chance to meet this man, and I’m going to go.
So, I did. I met Sam and his wife Anne. In person. One of the first things I said to Sam was, “When are you going to write a book about all your adventures?” He looked at me, smiled, and turned his head away as if that thought was somewhere on his mind, as well.
The service for his father was very heartwarming and sincere. Sam’s brother, Pete, stood up and said a few words of tribute about their father. Then Sam and Anne came up and sang a few songs, with Sam on the guitar. I had heard that Sam had played viola in the high school orchestra, so his ability to play music was already established. But I was touched to see him and Anne working their way through a couple of tunes.
A year or so later, Ann reached out to me to invite me and my wife, Marcia, out to their ranch in Estancia, New Mexico. So, in May of 2022, we drove out there. We stayed in their home, which, to some may have seemed a bit awkward—I mean, we had never even been to dinner together—but they made us feel more than welcome.
During our visit, Marcia and Ann got to have some quality time getting acquainted, and Sam and I had some serious time alone to talk about our mutual interests. I told him about my desire to write book, a Western, some day. I told him about my love of the American West and how the scenery, itself, often becomes another character in the story. I told him about the research I had done about Indian tribes the kind of lifestyle folks had in the early West.
He said, “Well, why don’t you write a book about me? Ann and I don’t have children and it would be a shame to not pass my stories on to someone.”
I cried. I honestly broke down and cried. This was the entry I was waiting for; the moment I needed and the permission I needed to put his stories in a book. I wasn’t begging him to write his stories; he entrusted me to write his stories.
That’s how this whole project began.