This is a nice letter from a customer:
After speaking with you the other day, I thought a lot about our conversations over the past couple years. When I first talked to you I thought maybe I was looking for something similar to a cutting saddle that I could rope on, and that somehow evolved into the saddle I am riding today. This all lead me to think about how your craft not only involves leatherwork, but also the challenge of communicating with your customers. I have no doubt as to your skill with leather. I did not, however, know about your skill in communicating with people. I feel better educated about the art and the craft of making saddles and how they are, whether the saddle maker acknowledges it or not, a way to express art as well as produce a very functional piece of equipment. “Form following function,” you said to me on more than one occasion. I also recall a conversation we had about the tooling you do in the seat of a saddle and how it is a shape of the cantle and the seat that dictates where the design is most suited. I really never did think that there was a particular place that a design would look best and that half an inch either too high or too low would make the placement unbalanced. Somewhere among our various exchanges about starting colts, my veterinary school experiences, or you sharing your philosophy on making saddles, you seemed to have a clear picture of the type of saddle I was looking for. Although we have not met, I feel that I have learned about how much pride you take in your work. Saddle making does not seem like just a job for you, but more an expression of you life’s work.
I remember a saddle that my brother had. It was a Will James type tree with a big round horn cap, probably larger than five inches. The saddle seemed to stand out to me. It didn’t have any fancy tooling, just a different stamping than I had seen and that covered about three-quarters of the saddle. It didn’t have a smooth flow, this was of course before I even knew what that meant. I just knew that the saddle design seemed abrupt. A large bill of a horn cap that jutted out over the front of the fork, and held in place by a skinny neck atop a bony set of shoulders. It had a very round cantle and round skirting. I was intrigued by it, I think because of its awkwardness and really its uniqueness. I thought about that saddle when I was talking to you about this new saddle. Although this saddle isn’t exactly what I was looking for, it gave me the idea of a larger horn with moderate swells and a fairly thick stock. I knew I didn’t want a Wade tree, I never did like how my Wade tree didn’t provide much of a brake to keep my leg from sliding forward in the event of uneasy waters. And the thought of having bucking rolls didn’t appeal to me, as it seems to detract from the look of a saddle. I wanted something there, but just not a jutting swell to bang my thigh on if my horse did indeed turn loose in a moment of uncertainty.
I just wanted to thank you for the opportunity to work with you. This is a very unique saddle that I have thought about for a long time and I thank you for your efforts, ability, and your diligence. I had an idea of what I was looking for when I first called you, and that changed over the next few years. I am glad your wait list was long enough that we could finally sort out what would suit me best.