The first Memorial Day social media post we did as a company was about a special truck predating KC Cattle Company by seven years. It is a 2010 Toyota Tundra that lives with the other KC Cattle vehicles at the entrance to our property. It has bumps, some rust, a check engine light, torn leather seats, air conditioning that whistles loudly when on full blast and a broken dash from an incompetent thief. It now smells like a “ranch truck,” which is one of the best car fresheners money can’t buy.
Yet.
What does a ranch truck smell like? The perfect culmination of cow manure, veterinarian medicine, old car fresheners, and a tinge of Copenhagen. It is a relatively stock truck, minus some after market rims and a cold air intake I installed a year after purchasing the truck. All in all, if you drove by this Tundra, your first thought would be, “What a dump.”
I purchased this truck in August, 2011, while serving as a member of the 1st Ranger Battalion, 75th Ranger Regiment. I purchased it from my sister Colleen after her husband SSG Jeremy A Katzenberger was killed while bringing the fight to the Talibans doorstep on his 8th deployment. As many of you have read in the past, Jeremy was my role model for most things I valued in life and has continued to be so after his death. He was an incredible Ranger. Modest, hard working, a quiet professional, tough as nails, and an unparalleled morbid sense of humor. More importantly, he was an incredible husband to my sister and for the short 6-months he got to do so, before passing away, the paradigm of what a father of a child should be.
His death wrecked me. I always thought the grief from an event like that was sudden, but my joy of living faded away slowly over a five year period. I lost three more friends in the following year. I got arrested twice in a 30-day time period (Once for simple assault with a taco. Hell of a story if we ever break bread together.) The second arrest was a significantly more serious and what I would consider rock bottom from spiraling out of control over a two year period. The only emotions I felt were anger and sadness but I had an uncanny ability to hide this from others. Until I couldn’t.
There are three memories I cherish from a dark and destructive period of my life. Seeing America’s best side at my friends' funerals, the memories with my sister, and driving Jeremy’s truck. The song *I Drive Your Truck* by Lee Brice had come out a month or so after Jeremy died and every time it came on the radio while I was driving to or from Hunter Army Airfield I would roll down every window in that truck, turn the volume to max and cry, or scream, or yell, or fight with God. I would look at his empty cans of Copenhagen rolling on the floor. The army gear he left in the back seat. The dirty Kleenexs in the cup holder. I would mourn and miss my friend in a healthy way. Since his death, I had lost my confidence, my sense of humor, my faith, my swagger, and eventually the job that was the only thing I had been really good at it or loved doing.
Depressing story, right? Hang on a minute… I’m still typing, so you know it didn’t end too terribly.
I contribute my redemption story from rock bottom to where I am now to four things. My faith, My wife, My Airborne Ranger in the Sky, and that truck.
I regained my faith after almost getting myself killed in a series of wildly unlikely and stupid events. Kind of an oxymoron, huh? I agree. The only thing I can figure is I spent so much time being angry with God that the only path he saw to salvation was breaking me down until I resembled a raw and exposed nerve. I didn’t wake up the next day healed and I think it’s silly when religious folks promise that to a grieving broken person. It wasn’t until 2022 that I regained my swagger, purpose, and emotions.
I started dating my wife for the second time about three months after hitting rock bottom. I was back in church. I was getting help, but I was still a mess of a person internally. For the longest time, I had no idea what she saw in me, but now I know she just has a talent for picking gems that need a little polish and sweat equity. That woman is one of a kind. I look up to her more than any other person inhaling oxygen and I owe her most of the credit for being alive today.
What’s an Airborne Ranger in the Sky you ask? It’s Jeremy’s spirit that has been with me every second since his earthly body was laid to rest. I couldn’t see it at the time, but even during those darkest of days he was right there beside me. If I wouldn’t have hit rock bottom like I did, I wouldn’t have married my wife and I wouldn’t have my beautiful four children. If the hot dog event wouldn’t have happened almost to the day that it did, I would have shut this company down to get back in the fight against the enemies of our country. I don’t have enough figures and toes to count all the ways Jeremy’s sacrifice made this world a better place, but I can tell you that this company wouldn’t exist if things didn’t happen like they did. I love and miss you, brother.
Lastly, Jeremy’s truck. Since his death, that vehicle served as my main driver, a local delivery vehicle, a ranch only truck, intern’s vehicles, a make shift cooking apparatus, and now a lawn ornament. I always enjoy telling someone new the honored story of that “dumpy truck.”
This was a long winded way to get here, but that truck is the point of this email. I had planned on keeping it for Jeremy’s son as his first truck and having him help me restore it, but it didn’t work out. The last few years since finding that out I have come close on multiple occasions to selling it because the company needed the money, but I couldn’t. I put up a social media post earlier this week with two options for what I was thinking about doing with it. First, restore it back to its original splendor and put it in storage for my oldest son who’s name is Jeremy, or make it a one of a kind collectors piece and auction it off to raise money for the Three Ranger Foundation or the Sua Sponte Foundation. I really didn’t want to do the latter option, but it did feel like the hard right, over the easy wrong.
Overwhelmingly (94%), our audience (you) voted to keep it in the fam. Hell, some even offered to pay for it. I am incredibly thankful to each of you that has come on this journey with KC Cattle Company. It gives me faith almost everyday that the United States is still filled with amazing people.
Don’t worry, I came up with another idea after reading through the comments from you all. We are going to make this truck one of kind and instead of it being parked in our shop or collectors shop, it is going to be KC Cattle Company’s new mascot vehicle for events, parades, and any other excuse I have to park it and tell Jeremy’s story. Already picked out the name… The Jak (Jeremy Andrew Katzenberger)
