OFF PAGE ONE
Saturday, November 27, 2021
Cowboy:
Continued from Page A1
his nephew to make saddles.
Severe often took the instru-
ment down to play.
Generations of Pendleton
Round-Up cowboys have
stayed at a bunkhouse on the
second floor of the saddle
shop. Randy’s uncle Duff,
who operated Severe Broth-
ers Saddlery with Randy’s
father Bill Severe, started
the tradition when a couple
of rodeo cowboys mentioned
they couldn’t find a place
to sleep. World champion
saddle bronc rider Casey
Tibbs is credited with chris-
tening the bunkhouse Hotel
de Cowpunch and hanging
a sign.
Cowboys pay noth-
ing at Hotel de Cowpunch
except for a signed photo
of themselves that hangs
on the wall. Saddle bronc
rider Cody DeMoss has
stayed at the bunkhouse
ever y Round-Up since
2004. Severe befriended the
cowboy, fixed his banged-up
saddles and taught him about
life and leatherwork. The
saddlemaker, DeMoss said,
had a soft spot for cowboys.
“He would drop what
he was doing for a cowboy
in need,” DeMoss said.
“He might be working on a
$25,000 or $40,000 saddle
for a client, but if a cowboy
came to him with a torn-up
bronc saddle, he’d drop
everything to help.”
DeMoss said the hole left
by Severe’s death is huge.
East Oregonian, File
Saddlemaker Randy Severe made more 200 championship saddles for the Pendleton Round-
Up. Severe died Sunday, Nov. 21, 2021, from the effects of COVID-19. He was 70.
East Oregonian, File
Randy Severe, then president of the Pendleton Round-Up,
rides around the arena Sept. 16, 2010, during the opening
ceremony of the Pendleton Round-Up.
“Humanity has lost a fine
human,” he said.
As a boy, Severe spent
a lot of time in the family
saddle shop, learning braid-
ing techniques and making
belts and wallets. Uncle
Duff wouldn’t let him build
saddles until he was married.
After high school, he left
Pendleton for a time, work-
ing on ranches in Arizona,
Nevada and Oregon. He left
for a season and got back
in time for Round-Up. The
ranch work was great prepa-
ration for making saddle
gear.
“You get to understand
the stress and strain that goes
on a saddle and that beautiful
squeak,” he said.
Eventually he met Rose-
mary and popped the ques-
tion. After their honeymoon
in 1974, Duff met Randy on
the doorstep and said, “It’s
time.”
Duff schooled Randy in
East Oregonian
the art of saddle making.
Bill taught Randy’s brother
Robin how to craft the trees
that serve as the saddles’
skeletons.
Friends and family are
struggling to imagine a
world without Severe. Carl
Culham and Bill Quesen-
berry remember their friend
and fellow Round-Up board
director as an easygoing
cowboy who exuded calm
and reason, even when deal-
ing with tough issues. Severe
acted as an ambassador for
Pendleton.
“He lived and breathed
Pendleton,” Culham said.
“He helped put this
community on the map,”
Quesenberry said.
Severe presided over
the Round-Up Association
during the rodeo’s centennial
year. Often board sessions
lasted until past midnight,
Quesenberry said, after
which Severe went back to
the shop for a few more hours
to work on trophy saddles.
Bot h me n e njoye d
Severe’s sense of humor.
Culham told the story of a
layover at the Dallas/Fort
Worth airport during a trip
with Severe and a couple of
other directors. They noticed
Severe stop and chat with a
woman who held a piece
of paper in her hand. They
watched him dig out a pen
from his pocket and sign the
paper. When Severe got back
to the group, Culham asked,
“What was that about?”
“ Pe ople somet i me s
mistake me for Garth Brooks,”
Severe explained. “It happens
every once in a while.”
A9
Severe did look a little
like Garth and it wasn’t
the only time he signed
autographs, said family
members. They said they
will miss that easy sense
of humor, along with his
omnipresent smile, unruf-
fled calm and ability to fix
anything. As a father, his
daughter Jodi Thackeray
said, he was “firm, but
loving” to his two sons and
three daughters. After the
punishment, “he came back
to tell us he loved us and was
proud of us.”
Randy, Rosemary said,
was the fun grandfather,
making his grandchildren
stilts and presiding over
“stilt wars.”
Ryan and Jarad Severe
learned from their dad’s
work ethic.
“He’d work his fingers to
the bone,” Ryan said. “He’d
never complain about it.”
“He taught us to work
hard and serve others and
to be happy doing it,” Jarad
said.
All of them will miss
Randy’s delight at simply
being.
“He was big on life,” Jodi
said of her father. “He loved
just living life.”
Severe died on Sun, Nov.
21, morning surrounded by
his family. Daughter Darla
Phillips added a final update
about her father on Face-
book.
“Heaven just gained an
amazing man,” she wrote,
“to which we will all be
grateful for, for the rest of
our lives.”
Ride on, cowboy.
Spirit:
Continued from Page A1
who said she and others were
working “for the love of the
community.”
Smart, who was in charge
of the kitchen, said she has
been working at the event
since 2014.
“I was doing nothing for
Thanksgiving, and I wanted
to do something,” she said. “I
felt the need, and I looked for
something until I found this.”
As a head cook at Good
Shepherd Health Care
System, her skills and experi-
ence were useful to this cause.
“It makes me feel better as
a person in the community,”
she said. “It’s fulfilling to see
that we’re helping so many
people.”
As tears welled up in her
eyes, Smart explained she
was immensely touched by
the outpouring of donations
and effort that made this event
possible. It would not be feasi-
ble without many caring,
loving people, she said; it is a
testament to the goodness of
the community.
Another volunteer, Ryan
Greene, said he was doing
this work because he enjoys
helping people.
“A lot of people are lonely,
especially if they don’t have
family around or if they are
in a position in which they
don’t have money for food,”
he said.
Community Fellowship
Dinner Chairman Gary
Humphreys explained the
history of the event, dating
back to the early 1980s. It
started, he said, with fami-
lies who were eating meals in
an apartment building when
it dawned on them that they
were eating alone and that
it would be better to share a
meal together.
In 1982, around 20 of
the apartment residents got
together for dinner. They
enjoyed the experience so
much, they wanted to keep
doing it, Humphreys said.
What is more, he said, they
wanted to invite others. The
idea caught on, snowballing
to create bigger and bigger
turnouts.
As Humphreys told the
story, participation for the
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Ben Lonergan/East Oregonian
Maj. Toni Halstad, of the Salvation Army, hands out to-go
meals Thursday, Nov. 25, 2021, during the Pendleton Sal-
vation Army’s annual Thanksgiving meal.
Meals:
Continued from Page A1
Ben Lonergan/East Oregonian
Volunteers package to-go meals Thursday, Nov. 25, 2021, at Hermiston High School for the
Community Fellowship Dinner.
Ben Lonergan/East Oregonian
Volunteers organize to-go meals Thursday, Nov. 25, 2021, at
the Hermiston Community Fellowship Dinner at Hermiston
High School, Hermiston.
community dinners grew so
much, they needed additional
space. They moved to a local
church, then a senior center
and, finally, Hermiston High
School.
The school, which has
held the event ever since, is
an excellent facility, he said.
It has a large kitchen for food
preparation, and they are
helped by school staff.
COVID-19 threw a wrench
into the gears, Humphreys
said. No longer was it safe to
bring the community together
for people to enjoy face-to-
face interaction. Instead,
he said, the event shifted so
volunteers were preparing
food and handing it to people
as they passed by in cars.
The dinner provided 1,300
meals in 2020 for Thanks-
giving and another 1,000 for
Christmas, he said, and he
expected the same amount
this year. For this Thanks-
giving, the meals used 1,000
pounds of turkey.
He said this was a
mammoth undertaking,
which was made possible
by sponsors and volunteers.
Subaru Corporation was a
particularly generous donor,
according to Humphreys, as
it gave $9,000, which alone
was more than the cost of the
Thanksgiving meals.
Humphreys said the
Thanksgiving dinner cost
$6,000. Donations from
companies and individuals
made it possible to buy new
equipment, including a trailer
and maybe an oven, which
would make the event more
self-sufficient. No longer will
community dinners need to
“begging for and borrowing”
materials to host their events,
he said.
Any funds left over will
go toward future dinners, he
said, while senior centers and
other groups in need get any
leftover food.
In a normal year, accord-
ing to Humphreys, around
150 volunteers are needed.
This year was different, as
there was no table service
and cold meals were handed
to passersby, so there was a
need for only 50 volunteers.
Next year marks the 40th
Community Fellowship
Dinner. Humphreys said
he expects 2022 to revert
to regular times with the
community meeting as they
did pre-pandemic.
“We’ll do whatever is
necessary to make that possi-
ble,” he said.
he lives mostly out of what
fits on his back and “lives and
sleeps under the stars.”
This year, Carter decided
to volunteer. In recent days,
he has been posted outside
the Pendleton Safeway as the
Salvation Army bell ringer
there. Speaking in energetic
bursts and looking around
with his piercing blue eyes
at the volunteers and people
stopping by for food, Carter
said he has been thinking
about the gratitude he feels
for what he has, rather than
what he does not.
The same held true
for several volunteers on
Thanksgiving.
Administrative assistant
Melissa Widel spent her day
driving around town deliv-
ering meals — like she has
since March 2020, when
the pandemic left countless
people unemployed and shut
in, heightening food inse-
curity nationwide. During
times of greatest need, Widel
said they have delivered as
many as 150 meals in a single
day.
“Every day is a blessing,”
Widel said of her work.
Widel said she enjoys
hearing the stories and grate-
ful words of the people she
serves. This year, she said the
Salvation Army was fortu-
nate to have more help than
usual.
“It warms your heart,”
said Widel, who works at
Simply Catering.
Halstad said they ordered
food early this year to avoid
the supply chain issues that
have swept the nation. She
spent her day standing at the
doorway and chatting with
people as she gave them
meals.
Cooking the meals in a
frantic frenzy this year was
Travis Hackett, a volunteer,
former worker at a four-star
restaurant and single father.
Sweat gleaming from his
forehead, Hackett said he has
a goal to feed his kids well
and enjoys refining his cook-
ing skills.
So he put those skills
to work with the Salvation
Army, where he found a
sense of community after he
came to town about a year
ago. Hackett said he felt a
sense of teamwork through
volunteering on Thanks-
giving. He said it gives him
a sense of purpose to help
long lines of people who he
doesn’t know.