In a lifetime of public service, Dolph Briscoe Jr. has seen and influenced more change than most… but whether you call him Governor or banker, he thinks of himself as

A Rancher First

By The Cattleman staff

“I consider myself not just a rancher first, but a rancher always. Anything else has just been something of, I’d say, a sideline.”

That’s an interesting comment from Dolph Briscoe Jr., the 40^th governor of Texas, banker and president of Texas and Southwestern Cattle Raisers Association (TSCRA) from 1960 to 1962.

Gov. Briscoe, who will celebrate his 80^th birthday in April, has led an influential life of public service. Thanks to his energy and commitment as a TSCRA officer, Texas gained a successful screwworm eradication program. While he was governor, significant improvements were made to the state’s rural road system.

His list of accomplishments is long and well-documented, but there is more to the rancher and to his story than many might know. Through a series of conversations with Gov. Briscoe, The Cattleman is able to shed some light on the person behind the boots, suit and smile and to share some of the lesser-known details of how Briscoe, helped by some interesting partners, got things done for people he admires.

The land first

The Briscoe ancestors helped found Texas. Andrew Briscoe, one of the first in the family to journey west of Mississippi, was captain of the Liberty Volunteers at the Battle of Concepcion and distinguished himself at the Battle of Jacinto as captain of the Company A Texas Regulars.

Briscoe’s office is at the Uvalde State Bank, Uvalde, Texas, his hometown as a boy and his home now. His office is decorated with photographs of close friends such as President Lyndon Johnson. But most of the photographs and mementos chronicle family history -- including an portrait of Janey, Briscoe’s wife and partner for close to 60 years, and a framed copy of the passport one of Briscoe’s forefathers used to gain entry to the Republic of Texas.

Reports over time have declared Briscoe Texas’ single largest landowner, which Briscoe acknowledges with a chuckle saying, “I’ve been accused of that.” The Briscoes ranch in Uvalde, Dimmitt, Webb, Zavala, Kinney, McMullen, LaSalle and Maverick Counties.

“One thing my father taught me was that when you can, sell cattle, turn them to cash and make a payment on the note. Be a seller, not a holder. But, on land, buy it when you can and try to hold it…I still believe land is the best investment a person can make. And, I think more people agree with that now after the recent experience with the stock market,” says Briscoe.

Getting started with sheep and goats

The early days for Janey and Dolph Briscoe were not what one might consider glamorous, or even comfortable. They started housekeeping in a hunting camp on a sheep and goat ranch in north Uvalde County.

“When I got out of the military,” Briscoe remembers, “my father and mother gave Janey and me their sheep and goat operation, which consisted of a ranch up in the north part of Uvalde County on the Dry Frio River, and also the lease on another ranch that was over on the Indian Creek, which is part of the Nueces watershed.

“Janey and I moved to the ranch, which was about 20 miles north of Uvalde, and that’s still what we consider to be our home.

“When we moved there, it was right after (World War II) and, of course, there hadn’t been any electric lines built during the war. There were not very many people up in the canyon, so it was on a low priority as far as building the REA (Rural Electric Administration) lines. So there was no electricity and no telephone when we moved in there.”

He smiles at the memory, saying, “It was quite a different way of life for Janey, from what she was used to, having been raised in Austin, but she adapted very quickly and learned to love living there.”

Through the years, they added on as needed when children came along. “Janey, she wanted to adjust and I somehow had the idea that we wanted to be as self-sufficient as we could be. So, we had a milk cow, some hogs and chickens. She churned butter and brought butter and eggs into town to sell at the L. Schwartz Grocery Co. It was a great life. That was a good start.”

Briscoe laughs as he remembers their first couple of years at the ranch were lit by a single light bulb, powered by a Delco generator, which had been a gift from his father.

“We’d sit out on the front porch at night and sometimes some of the neighbors might come by. There were some wonderful people living up there,” he remembers.

Adding cattle to the mix

Today, Gov. Briscoe’s ranch is primarily a cow-calf and stocker operation, with some retained ownership through the feedlot, including one in which his son Chip owns an interest. There are also two Briscoe daughters, Janey Jr. and Cele.

Briscoe’s father started with Hereford cattle. By the 1930s he was crossing them with Hudgins’ Brahman bulls. Then, Briscoe explains, “Around the time of World War II, my father was able to buy some cattle from his great friend, Mr. Richard King, and from that started a Santa Gertrudis herd.” These genetics still comprise the bulk of the cow herd.

“You’ve got to have some luck; that’s a major part of any business,” says Briscoe, explaining the advice he follows from his father. “My father’s advice was basically to keep your business sound so you can withstand any drop in the market or drought, which is particularly tough in our area…which means to keep your debt down.

“Then, as now, to get a start in the cattle business a person needed some help, some luck or both,” says Briscoe. “My father had that luck in that a friend he had grown up with was head of sales for Humble Oil Company. Mr. Ross Sterling, one of the founders and the president of Humble Oil (the nucleus of today’s Exxon), wanted to get into the cattle business. My father’s friend recommended him to Mr. Sterling to manage his cattle operations. They did very well in the cattle business, so that financial backing from Mr. Sterling gave my father a real start.”

As with all things cattle, the path to success was anything but straight. Briscoe explains, “During the Depression in 1932 and 1933 they lost everything they had. My father had to start over and was able to start over on land leased from Catarina Farms. He started with a large debt carryover, but he was determined to succeed again…By 1939 my father was able to buy the first 20,000 acres of what is now our Catarina Ranch. Through the years we’ve been able to add to it.”

The help of partners

Partners have played a major role in Briscoe’s own life. His best partner has been Janey. An original oil portrait of Janey hangs over the red leather chair in his office at the bank. Mrs. Briscoe passed away two years ago, and is sorely missed.

“Janey was such a vital part of our business, as well as everything else. She really fell in love with the ranching business.” After a pause, he clears his throat to continue, “When a piece of land came up (for sale) next to us and I wanted to buy it but didn’t have the money and was scared to do it, she always encouraged me to buy it. ‘How are we going to pay for it?’ I’d ask. She’d say, ‘Well, we’ll pay for it, we’ll find a way.’”

Another Briscoe partner was Red Nunley, Sabinal, Texas. Nunley’s grandsons continue the Nunley Brothers ranching business at Sabinal.

Warming up to his subject, Briscoe barely contains the laughter when he remembers Red Nunley. “Red was raised over north of Sabinal. He started out trading cattle really just one head at a time. He truly worked his way from that into an extremely successful rancher.

“In Red’s early days, my father had recovered from the Depression and was in a position to help finance some younger cattle operators. Red was one of them. When I lost my father in 1954, Red and I formed a partnership and stocked the ranch we have in McMullen County with steers. That was the beginning of the partnership.

“Red was a very conservative operator,” Briscoe says, explaining that Nunley was always ready to expand, but wanted to pay off debts as soon as possible and to avoid going back into debt as much as possible. “He wanted to keep things on a very sound financial basis.

“Put it another way; after I lost my father,  Red took over to help me. He was the finest partner anybody could ever have.”

Briscoe stops to think a minute, and says, “I don’t know any other way to put it except he’s one of those rare fellows who never had enough work to do. He always wanted more and he could do it and handle it extremely well.”

Briscoe still partners with Nunley’s grandsons. “His two grandsons are as fine two young men as I’ve ever known. The years I was in business with them were big years and I have very very strong feelings about them. I feel like they were my own boys.”

Briscoe credits his political career to his partnership with Red Nunley. “I’d been in the legislature. When my father passed away I didn’t run again. Being partners with Red made it possible for me to get back into state politics. He could, would and did handle our partnership. He could and would make a ranch make money.

“Red was an interesting fellow,” he says, and tells this story to illustrate his partner’s character and determination. “We got pretty spread out,” Briscoe says of their ranching operations. “We had some ranches leased out in the Big Bend area. It’s a long drive out there, so, we needed an airplane. So, we got one. Red taught himself how to fly; he never had a license.” After he stops laughing, Briscoe adds, “But he was an excellent pilot. I’ve never flown with anybody I’ve felt as comfortable with as I felt with Red.”

Briscoe continues,  “Then later, to work cattle in South Texas it changed from working them horseback to working them with helicopters. So, we got a helicopter -- a Bell Ranger. Red taught himself how to fly that Bell Ranger. Again, he was the best helicopter pilot that I have ever flown with. He’d never taken a lesson and never had a license. If he wanted to do something he was going to learn how to do it and learn how to do it extremely well and with complete safety.

“Janey and I were extremely lucky that (our son) Chip always wanted to ranch. In fact, he told me when he was pretty young, ‘When I grow up I want to be a rancher, but I want to be a working rancher like Mr. Nunley’…whatever that says about me,” he says with good bit of humor.

“We insisted (Chip) go to the University of Texas and graduate, which he did. But, he told me on several occasions that he felt like he was wasting his time and my money, but he was having a pretty good time doing it.”

Screwworms

In the late 1950s, Briscoe was an officer of TSCRA. Screwworms were costing Texans huge financial losses in diminished or dead livestock. Briscoe was integral to bringing a highly suspect eradication program to Texas.

You have to wonder what thoughts were running through the mind of this man, in his mid-30s at the time, while he traveled the state raising private dollars and public support for a program the government experts were sure would not work and refused to support.

Norman Moser, a rancher in Bowie County, was TSCRA president at the time. Moser took Briscoe and Leo Welder, the two vice-presidents, to Florida to learn about that state’s successful screwworm eradication program.

In addition to meeting with Florida cattle producers and the state cattlemen’s association, the Texans also met “some of the USDA people and Dr. R.C. Bushland. He had been one who had dedicated most of his life to studying the screwworm fly, along with Dr. Knipling.

“Bushland was the fellow who was absolutely convinced it would work here in Texas and the southwestern states,” says Briscoe. “He was the entomologist whose enthusiasm for a program here in Texas was absolutely contagious.

“There was absolutely no scientific proof (a screwworm eradication program) would work because of the continued danger of re-infestation from Mexico,” Briscoe says. “But, the theory was if we put out enough sterile flies, we would overwhelm the native population.” Since the female screwworm fly mates only once in her lifespan, in theory releasing sterile male flies would disrupt the reproduction cycle, he explains.

Briscoe admits there was no certainty such a program would work in Texas, but livestock producers who had experienced the devastation to their herds and flocks were desperate to try something. “When any of us who were trying to get the program started would go to a meeting, all we could say was, ‘It’s worth a try,’ and ask for 50 cents per head on cattle voluntary contribution, on the basis of it’s worth a try. And we hope it will work. We think it will work.’”

Briscoe says Dr. Bushland’s personal conviction that the program would work carried over into his enthusiastic talks at livestock producer meetings. “He did a great job in selling the program, but as an employee of USDA,  he was violating all their rules and regulations. Without him I don’t think we could have ever actually raised the money.”

The Extension Service, out of Texas A&M, and run by John Hutchinson, was also vital to the effort to raise awareness and funds to support the eradication project. Briscoe says the Extension Service formed county committees to get livestock producers to make the 50 cents per head donation. “Then it really became competitive between the counties to see which county could raise the most money.”

After about two years of grassroots meetings, more than $3 million in private funds were raised for Texas’ screwworm eradication program. Briscoe and his colleagues then went to the USDA and said, “Here we have the money for you to build a plant to produce these flies, sterilize them, release them, overwhelm the native population and hopefully eradicate the screwworm fly.”

It was unusual to have private dollars for a program such as this, Briscoe remembers, “The USDA’s official line was that it would not work here in Texas.” Bushland was called to Washington and disciplined by his superiors at USDA, who also asked for his resignation, “because he had violated their policy. There was a tremendous amount of interest in and support for doing something or trying to do something. The sheep and goat producers were extremely interested because their death loss was higher than in the cattle industry. We were absolutely stymied at the USDA.”

He continues, “We needed a $200,000 appropriation for additional research on the program. Lyndon Johnson, at that time, was Senate majority leader. He knew what screwworms were, having been raised there on the Pedernales River.”

Chuckling, Briscoe admits Johnson thought the idea of releasing sterile flies was pretty far fetched, but he agreed to get the appropriation for the research. “He ran into difficulty in the Senate. Sen. Russell, who was chairman of the Appropriations Committee thought it was a waste of money. So one night Johnson kept the Senate in session until Sen. Russell got tired and went home and we got that $200,000.”

Later, Sen. Johnson became President Johnson, and non-Texan Orville Freeman became Secretary of Agriculture. “We talked to Secretary Freeman. I’ve forgotten where he was from, but he wasn’t from a screwworm area. We got nowhere, because his people in the department kept telling him it wouldn’t work.

“Through a congressman friend, I was able to get a chance to go see President Johnson. We’d been downstairs in the projection room watching a movie. Walking down the hallway of the lower floor (of the White House), I talked to him. He knew about the program because I’d talked to him about it before several times.”

Briscoe remembers President Johnson asking what he needed. Briscoe’s answer was, “‘I need you to tell the Secretary to give the program a chance to work. In other words, support it. We’ve raised $3 million from the livestock producers. That shows local support and willingness to put up some money to give it a chance. If local people, those directly affected, are ready to put up their money, then hopefully the federal government will put up some money to get the program underway.’

“He said, finally, ‘All right. I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll call Orville in the morning and we’ll get the program underway.’ Whether he called him or had someone call him, I’ll never know, but the next day USDA changed their position. They changed it completely and supported the program from that point forward. We were lucky we had somebody in the White House who knew what screwworms were.”

Briscoe adds an interesting side note. Apparently, a few weeks later, the much-criticized and professionally besmirched Dr. Bushland was recalled to Washington where he received the highest decoration given by the USDA.

The money raised from the 50 cents per head donation went to build a screwworm research facility at the abandoned Mission Air Force base in the Lower Rio Grande Valley. Because private dollars were available to build the facility, Briscoe and his colleagues weren’t encumbered with the government bidding process. Pierce Johnson, _________ brought builder Herman Brown, Brown and Root Construction Co., Houston, into the project.

Brown became so interested in the success of the screwworm fly eradication program that he built the plant at cost, “in a shorter period of time and at a capacity to produce more flies than had been in the original plans which were drawn up by the USDA,” Briscoe says.

“The plant operated there for quite a number of years and produced many millions of flies that were sterilized and then released by planes dropping boxes of flies. The program worked.

“One thing to me is very important here. The program was a result of 30 to 40 years of research into the life cycle and mating habits of the screwworm flies. It was a fascinating program in lots of ways, but it exemplifies, as strongly as anything could, the importance and the results of research.

“It exemplifies what can be done by an industry when the members of that industry decide there is a problem that they need to work on and they get together and work on it in unity. They are able to accomplish it because they work together,” he emphasizes.

The realities of changing times

Remembering exciting times in years past is a pleasant way to spend some time in conversation. But our interviews with Briscoe didn’t just dwell on the past. He shows a considerable amount of pragmatism in his comments on the realities the ranching industry and TSCRA face today.

“My father bought those first 20,000 acres for $6 per acre. At the time he was leasing the land for 20 cents per acre, so it was more expensive to own than to lease. Of course, today I’m glad he bought it,” he says.

“It costs a lot more money to grow a pound of beef in Southwest Texas today. One of the reasons for that is the land’s use for recreation. Back in the ’40s there were no such things as hunting leases. Today a hunting lease is worth three to four times as much as a grazing lease.”

For comparison, where Briscoe’s father once paid 20 cents an acre to lease grazing, today’s rancher will pay $2.50 to $3 per acre.

“Many of the ranches that are being bought today are being bought by those who are interested in recreation or hunting,” he says. “A good hunting lease will go $10 to $12 an acre, some even higher. So the economics of the situation have changed completely. Of course, I remember back in those days right after the war, we didn’t have a single hunting lease. There wasn’t a demand for them. At this time, it would be impossible to stay in the ranching business without our hunting leases.

“I liked it better the way it used to be, but that has nothing to do with reality,” Briscoe says. “The reality of the situation is, with the slow economy that we are in, when you can get three or four times as much or more for a hunting lease than a grazing lease, you’ve got to realize that those deer are very, very valuable.”

When asked how the changing land use has changed the South Texas community, Briscoe notes that the increased recreational activity has increased the cash flow in the South Texas towns. On the downside, “It’s a change from what it used to be, say, when a town like Uvalde was a ranching community. On a personal basis, I liked it better that way, but in reality it’s not going to be that way.

“We have to adjust to it,” he says, and pauses before adding, “I really don’t know any other way to put it. We have to adjust to it. For a town like Uvalde, it’s grown the economic base here. It brings in a lot of activity and a lot of fine people. It’s a new part of our culture, I’d guess you’d say. As well as our economy. It’s a new part, a growing part.”

This change also affects the membership of the TSCRA. “I think that we as an association are going to have to offer…services to those who are interested only in the recreational aspect of their land that they own. I believe strongly that is something we, the association, can do.”

While changing land use is one reality ranchers have to face, at the other end of the production continuum, Briscoe talks about yet another set of realities. “The concentration of the meatpacking industry into the hands of a very few packers…I think as producers we have to recognize and realize that we are trying to get the best price we can for the cattle we sell. Packers are trying to get as large a margin as they can between what they pay us and what the retailer pays them.

“If I was a packer I would do the exact same thing, so it’s not a matter of saying they are doing something wrong, only that they are trying to make as much money as they can, and that’s why we’re all in business. I don’t mean to condemn the packer, but I think we have to recognize that to some extent we’ll always be in an adversarial position, and to think otherwise is to refuse to face reality.”

Like other vexing challenges, Briscoe says there is no easy answer to packer concentration, but he does believe producers should take a hard look at allowing packers to also be in the cattle feeding business.

Bottom line, the advice Briscoe’s father gave him about taking care of business and keeping debt down has evolved into, “take care of business and look ahead. At the same time, don’t be afraid to bet on the future of this great country of ours. As you look back, the future of this country has always been greater than its past, and in my opinion it will continue to be so. You also have to be sure you don’t bet too much at one time, so much that a temporary setback will take you out. That’s a difficult line to determine.”

Helping the industry help you

Briscoe counts his time as a TSCRA director and officer among the highlights of his life. “I served with some of the best men who ever lived and never had finer friends,” he says. While he believes the organization is more effective today than at anytime in its history, with the soundest leadership (including his son, Chip, who is a TSCRA director), he also believes leadership and member involvement are more important now than ever.

“We’re more needful of leadership now than at any time in the past because the problems we’re facing are more time-consuming to deal with than they were back in those days. And the cattle industry’s contribution to our total state economy as a percentage is not as great as it was in those days,” says Briscoe.

“We have, truly, in the cattle industry some of the greatest people who have ever lived. That’s true of the young generation today, too, without a doubt. They all have a great attitude.”

With that in mind, Briscoe continues to urge people, especially young people, to get involved in the process. “I would encourage them to participate in our association, to participate in civic and government affairs at all levels. That’s the way to be effective -- to participate and not be discouraged by anything.

“We have an association that is absolutely unique in my opinion. There is a spirit about it that is just different. It can adjust to changing conditions, just like the ones we talked about.”

“No, I’m certainly not ready to quit.”

That was Briscoe’s response to an observation made during one of our conversations that he appears to be keeping an eye on the years ahead instead of on the rocking chair at the ranch.

 “At the top of my plate right now would be the University of Texas Health Science Center in San Antonio where Janey was treated when she became ill. I’m convinced that the more-than-excellent treatment she received there gave me an extra two years with her.

“My wife, Janey, was always a full partner in everything we did, including everything political. I could never have had any success without her,” says Briscoe. “Since losing my Janey I’ve got to keep busy, the busier the better, whatever the activity and refuse to recognize the loss, which is the only way I know to deal with it.”

 So, among other things, he’s hard at work helping the Health Science Center secure funding for a cardiovascular research program he’s convinced could prevent a large number of heart disease problems in the future.

After all, Briscoe knows no other way than looking ahead and trying to make tomorrow better than today.

“As we look from today to the future, it’s a great time to be alive, and it would be an even greater time to be young because the opportunities that exist in our state today are much greater than at anytime in our history,” he says.

In the lobby of Briscoe’s office sits a bronze of Remington’s Coming Through the Rye. The obvious glee of the four cowboys charging forward on their horses, pistols pointing straight up in celebration, is an apropos introduction to the man behind the office door: Confident, bold, unabashedly enthusiastic and looking forward.

One simple statement characterizes the many lifetimes of achievement Dolph Briscoe Jr. has managed to squeeze into eight decades: “In looking back, the only thing I would have done different, with all of the opportunities I’ve had…I should have done so much more.”

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pull quotes

I still believe land is the best investment a person can make.

… keep your business sound so you can withstand any drop in the market or drought…

We were lucky we had somebody in the White House who knew what screwworms were.

At this time, it would be impossible to stay in the ranching business without our hunting leases.

I liked it better the way it used to be, but that has nothing to do with reality.

If I was a packer I would do the exact same thing…they are trying to make as much money as they can, and that’s why we’re all in business.

…to some extent we’ll always be in an adversarial position, and to think otherwise is to refuse to face reality.

We have, truly, in the cattle industry some of the greatest people who have ever lived.

… it’s a great time to be alive…

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