The visitors are drawn even closer when the friendly rider, Randy Rostetter, waves his hand and beckons, calling out "Hey, want to get up on this steer?" Well over half the folks will take Randy up on his invitation. In a matter of some ten minutes on a chilly afternoon while this reporter was there, three different groups approached Randy and waited patiently for their turn on Lone Star, Randy's partner in this venture.

"I'd roughly estimate some 50,000 people have had their photo taken on Lone Star in the six years I've been in the Stockyards," says Randy. "We've met folks from every nation in the world--Australia to Zimbabwe and all points in between. Many of them keep up with us, and I've made a lot of friends."

Randy took a long circuitous route to get to the Stockyards. A farmer/rancher in Nebraska, he moved to Texas to work for the Texas Angus Association. Then moved on as a ranch manager at Wichita Falls. When that job came to an end, Randy visited the Stockyards area. "I just walked down the streets there, and there was a sense in the air. I thought this place is going to go. What can I do that's going to work?" Then he saw a photograph of TLBAA member David Nance and his riding steer. "I'd shown cattle all my life, and knew it was possible to train a steer and had seen others do it. I knew I could do it, too. I went out and bought a steer, and the rest is pretty much history."

Randy's first steer was broke to a saddle, and with a little trepidation, one could get on. "That's the way they all are," says Randy. "The first day you just bring them out, and you're looking for a place to get. Work with them day by day, and the changes are almost imperceptible. Pretty soon, if you have the right basic material to begin with, you get an animal you can trust.

Randy's "theory" in selecting a steer is to choose a thicker-made, easier doing animal. "Some Longhorns you couldn't get fat if you wanted to while others seem more predisposed to lay on a little fattening. I've found these to be a little more lethargic and a little easier to handle. I usually fill my steers up before I take them out, and they stand there and ruminate and look pretty. That's the way I want them."

Randy has trained eight steers and is starting on two more. He has had to give up on only one. "I made the mistake of picking one for beauty as opposed to personality," says Randy. "I realize now that not all animals are suited to this job, just as all people aren't suited to the same work. I wasn't smart enough to see this in the beginning, but after awhile it became apparent to me."

As Randy states often, he and Lone Star, which he has had since the steer was 4 months old, area partners. "Lone Star is fine as long as he knows where I am. A kid once shot off a firecracker behind him, and he didn't even flinch. I believe it would take a nuclear bomb to move him off his spot. I'm happy with that. That's something that's part of the whole process. That's why I've turned down some good money for Lone Star. When you start a new steer, you have to start all over. It's about like raising a child and it takes awhile."

However, the TLBAA registered six-year-old steer will let Randy know when he's had enough. "Usually I get tired before he does," says Randy. "But when he starts looking back towards his residence behind the Exchange Building, I take him there to eat, drink and rest. Then after a while, I'll saddle him up and we'll go back out again."

And people are always waiting for them to come out to get their photo made with Lone Star. Randy used to charge a set fee--one for using his Polaroid and one for using the visitor's own camera. "I finally figured out that I was spending several seconds each time going through the litany of what this was going to cost. So one day, I just told the first person who asked, 'whatever you think's fair.' I made more money that day than with a set price. The choice also lets more people enjoy what I'm doing out there. Generous people are always generous, but those who are a little more conservative or economically disabled can enjoy it, too. I've eliminated prices as a barrier, and it works better."

In order to make a profit in this situation where you set your own hours, Randy says it takes another ingredient in addition to a gentle steer and a good location. It also depends on the personality of the rider. He must be able to relate to people, and to be a good spokesman for the factors he represents--the Old West, the cowboy, the Fort Worth Stockyards, and the Texas Longhorn breed. Randy, with his handle-bar moustache, high topped boots, and friendly manner, does it well. "I get asked a thousand questions a day. A lot are about the Texas Longhorn, and that's when I get the chance to tell the Longhorn story. When I'm asked where they can get more information, I always tell them the national headquarters is just down the street."

"Working in the Stockyards with my partner, Lone Star, has been a totally positive experience, Randy sums up. "I'm glad I do it, and we plan to continue to do it. Oh sure, I'd like to take Lone Star up Pike's Peak or out to Monterey, and we're looking for sponsors now to make this a mutually profitable venture, but we'll always come back to Fort Worth. The Stockyards is our home."