Voice of the Mid-Columbia | Kennewick, Pasco and Richland, Wash. |
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closeFriday, Aug. 22, 2008
No clowning around: Kennewick bullfighter describes himself as 'adrenaline junkie'
By Mary Hopkin, Herald staff writer
A lot of people think Rowdy Barry is a clown. But the Kennewick bullfighter, whose has been saving cowboys' lives and limbs since the mid-1980s, dropped the clown act years ago.
Barry takes the job of rodeo bullfighter -- those who protect bull riders after they finish their ride, often throwing themselves in front of an angry bull to distract it -- seriously and wanted others to take it seriously, as well. And he says he never was funny.
He is, he says, "an adrenaline junkie" and remains active in the arena. But today, he's also a father, a well-known artist and rancher who is a familiar face at the Horse Heaven Roundup at the Benton Franklin Fair & Rodeo.
Barry, whose father was a cowboy, grew up around rodeo and started riding saddle broncs and giving bullriding a try while he was in high school.
At the time, he was a lanky, 6-foot-tall, 140-pound teenager who spent more time flying through the air than bouncing on the back of a Brahma.
"I got on a lot of bulls, but I didn't ride a lot of them," he said.
His odds were better on the ground, and he liked the idea of helping out and keeping the other cowboys safe. By 1986, he'd earned his Professional Rodeo Cowboys Association bullfighters card, allowing him to work at the most prestigious rodeos in the nation.
And that's just what he's done: Saving some lives along the way, breaking some ribs, and doing his best to get people to understand that bullfighters are athletes and not clowns.
"That's my vision of the job -- being an athlete and saving cowboys," he said.
Bull riding has changed since Barry first entered the arena. Bullriders are trading hats for helmets, and a protective vest is as important as good pair of boots.
And young bullriders entering the sport have a different attitude as well.
"They are coming in with a goal, and they are working out," he said.
Still, rodeo has retained the uniquely American quality that created it.
"It's that Old West heritage," Barry said. "And there's something about the animals that draws people in."
"I think there will always be a place for rodeo," he said.
In Barry's early PRCA years he was on the road nearly 300 days a year, living out of his truck.
Two decades later, Barry has cut that to about 100 days, spending more time as a husband and father and artist while still satisfying his adrenaline cravings.
He met his wife, Laura Lee, at a rodeo in Sisters, Ore., and the couple married in 1995. And while Rowdy Barry is in the arena, Laura Lee keeps the crowd happy in her job as a Lady Wrangler. She visits with children, hands out candy to the crowd and is a riding billboard for the Wrangler brand.
Daughter Clay Noel, 9, and son, Miles, 7, watch their folks work from the sidelines. Clay wants to sing the national anthem at the rodeo next year, and Miles sometimes wants to be a bullfighter.
"I'm pretty lucky," Rowdy said. "I've got a beautiful family and I get to fight bulls."
That last part might cause concern for some women, but Laura Lee is at peace with her husband's career.
Laura Lee Barry said when she started dating the bullfighter she decided she couldn't worry about the danger of his job.
"I just have to leave it in God's hands," she said.
She's also supported his artistic work, a gift he got from his mother.
"At Christmas my Mom would paint pictures and send them off as gifts for relatives," he said.
And she would try to keep her rambunctious boy occupied with paints, pencils and crayons, which Barry loved to use.
"It was something I did for me," he added.
At least until two years ago, when Lori Lancaster, the Benton Franklin Fair & Rodeo manager, asked him to design the label for the Horse Heaven Round-Up Red, a special wine being made for the fair. Each year's vintage displays one of Barry's works.
Now, Barry is recognized as often as an artist as he is a bullfighter.
"There were some people I've known 15 years who came up and said, 'I didn't know you were an artist,' " he said.
Barry's working on a bronze sculpture of Jesus for the Cathedral of Joy chapel and considering art as a secondary career when he retires from bullfighting. That, and raising Corriente cattle on his Mabton farm.
But the 41-year-old cowboy won't be riding into the retirement horizon anytime soon.
"I have a passion for fighting bulls," he said.
That passion puts a smile on his face every day, Laura Lee said.
"How many people do you know that get up in the morning and say, 'I get to go to work today'?" Laura Lee asked. "That's Rowdy."
And he won't quit until that changes, he said.
"Whenever it becomes a job, or I'm not effective in doing my job," he said.
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