A black hat, a white shirt, blue jeans, favorite boots and the smell of saddle leather – Richard – one of the fascinating groups of humanity called "Cowboys".

A cowboy comes in assorted hat sizes and weights; he is laziness with a deck of cards, bravery with spurs, a magician with a rope, energy on a dance floor, has the slyness of a fox, the eyes of a dreamer and is a legend of the Old West with story telling.

Richard O. Patterson, son of H.O. (Buck) Patterson and Naomi Wysong Patterson was born June 18, 1940 at Arnett, Oklahoma and hung up his spurs in this life March 28, 2009 at the age of 68 years, 9 months, and 10 days. Rich grew up on the family ranch 7 miles southeast of Harmon, Oklahoma on Turkey Creek and attended the Arnett Public Schools.

He learned the art of being a cowboy under the watchful eye of his dad, Buck, and his grandfather, Pope, who was his favorite story teller, and a variety of other cowboys of the day.

Over the years he worked at Braums Farms, several area ranches, and the Woodward Livestock Auction. He worked in the oilfield as a roughneck for a time, but always returned to the cowboy life.

At home north of the river at Packsaddle, with the Antelope Hills for a view, he cared for Dillon, broke and rode horses, did day work for lots of folks, helped his neighbors, and entertained his friends. He could tell the best stories in the most colorful way.

Rich was a great cook. He enjoyed reading, hunting, gardening, Bob Wills music, dancing and pulling a joke on someone whenever possible.

He was preceded in death by his parents, Buck and Naomi Patterson; his sister and brother-in-law, Clara and Harold Berry; and one niece, Kathy Berry Steers.

Those left to cherish his memory are Sydney Patterson, Bucky Patterson, Melissa Folks, Will Patterson, Dillon Patterson, Misty Hackely and Terry Lee. His sisters and brothers-in-law, Pat and Marshall Murphy and Jo Ann and Donald Rohrer, several nieces, nephews, cousins, and a host of friends far and wide.

Cowboys are majestic creatures. Just as Rich did, they witness the Lord's work through nature; a newborn calf or colt, the song of the Bob While quail, the wild flowers, the smell of the dew at sunrise, and the howl of the coyote at dusk. The place they worship is the wide open spaces built by the hands of the Lord.