b'MENTORSHIPBy Brett SpearManaging Partner at Stockman Feeds & Western WearT he prelude music played softly in the background as friends, family, co-workers, and fellow worshipers filed into the church to pay tribute to a man I considered to be a father figure, friend, adopted uncle to my children, fellow hobbyist, but most of all a mentor. As I sat in the pew with my wife and grown children, I reflected on all of the memories I have of this man, a man who saw something in me that I didnt see in myselfpotential.I met Curtis Lanier Washington Sr. in 1991 on one of the first days I began work at Stockman Feeds and Western Wear. He drove up in an old International long bed pickup, a Straight 6 model with the three on the tree shifter. He had just got off work at Arizona Public Service, where he worked as a lineman, climbing poles to repair or to install high voltage electrical systems. He had a big smile on his face, an ever-present toothpick in his mouth, and greeted everyone in the store with a Hi, hows she going?! He raised a bunch of chickens, and we would see him every two weeks, usually on Fridays, to pick up another truckload of chicken feed and supplies. He and Paul Edwards, the owner, had been friends for years and always took a few minutes to tell some lies to each other! He was funny, boisterous, had the greatest belly laugh ever, and always had a twinkle in his eye when sharing a storyhe loved to talk!Over the next few months, we began to talk about chickens, life, love, education, trials and tribulations, and family. I was young, not quite sure what direction my life was moving, but willing to work hard and just see what happens. Eventually, he invited me and my fianc over for a barbecuethe best-smoked brisket I have ever had to this day! His homemade sauce was amazing, the hospitality genuine, and a life-long friendship that began over some small talk while loading feed sacks in that old International pickup was cemented. He was a handful at the card table too, whether it was a game of Spades or Dominos, you could tell if he was winning or not by the volume of his words and the volume of his voice echoing from the patiohe rarely lost!Uncle Curt, as he was known by everyone who knew him, would challenge me all the time to finish my education, to be an honorable and dedicated husband, to love my kids with all my heart, and to love and honor God and Jesus Christ. He taught me to always hold my head up, to look others in the eye, to be honest, and trustworthy, to see people for who they are regardless of race or background, to serve others, and to work hard no matter what the task. He helped me see my potential and taught me to see the potential in others. He was Black and I am whiteand it doesnt matter because love, respect, humility, gratitude, kindness, and other character pillars are all color-blind attributes of the human experience if we allow it to be so. A wise man once told me, On the day you pass from this life, if you have more friends, true friends, than you have fingers on one hand, you have lived a blessed life. Uncle Curt was one of my fingers, but his mentorship will serve me well as I go forward in this life and when I pass beyond the veil I know he will be there waiting to greet me, with his big grin, his ever-present toothpick in his mouth, and hell say, Hi, hows she going? Over the next few months, we began to talk about chickens, life, love, education, trials and tribulations, and family. Eventually, he invited me and my fianc over for a barbecuethe best-smoked brisket I have ever had to this day! ARIZONAREALCOUNTRY.COMArizonaRealCountry.com April 2022 65'