Bobby Reeder, born Dec. 30, 1949, was raised in Houston, Texas. Every year his father came to Colorado to deer hunt, and Reeder eventually joined too. In 1974 it had snowed so much. Then, Reeders and hunting companions were stuck at a camp up off the Divide Road.
Reeder’s first wife, Linda — they married in 1970 — had lost her father that same weekend. He’d died in Wyoming. Before the time of cell phones, a friend knew where the group of hunters had camped, and went up to let Bobby know. He was driven to Montrose to fly out for his father-in-law’s funeral.
By the time Reeder’s dad got ready to leave camp, 30 inches of snow was on the ground. Both the Jeep they had and the International truck were stuck. It took eight hours and four miles to get back to the Divide Road. Many other trucks had been abandoned in the storm.
As it happened, a San Miguel Power Association truck, driven by Chuck Zunich and Ron Karo, showed up and said they would drive the hunters to Nucla.
“Where the hell is Nucla?” Reeder said his dad had said he wondered.
They found out, first arriving to the gun range, and then to Zunich’s home, where they met his new bride, Kathy Zunich. Zunich’s family and friends fixed the clutch in Reeder’s truck and took good care of the group.
Every year thereafter, the Reeders kept hunting and visiting the West End, soon making friends with Kathy Zunich’s dad, PeeWee Kettle who worked for Union Carbide. Reeder’s parents became best friends with the Kettles.
“I liked the way of life,” Reeder told the Forum. “I saw life around Nucla. You could go ride horses, do whatever you wanted to do, hunting out your back door.”
Reeder was a diesel mechanic, and in 1979 he put out three applications to work in the West End. He had five job offers in three days, but he didn’t take any of them. Union Carbide held a job for him, but he couldn’t get moved quickly enough. He finally sold his house in Texas in 1980 and got a house in Nucla on the outside of town, next to Bill Garrett; Bud Benson lived across the road.
He and Linda Reeder moved Dec. 27, 1980, a few days before his 30th birthday.
The uranium business was slowing, but Reeder went to work for CB Johnson, hauling uranium ore to the mill in Uravan and also into Blanding, UT. Later, he got a contract hauling cement for the building of McPhee Reservoir.
Reeder worked as a mechanic, truck driver and a truck boss until 1984, continuing a dear friendship with the Zunich family.
In 1985, Reeder went to work for San Miguel Ranches, where Silver Hawk is now, as their social coordinator and recreation director. Then, a group of guys from Texas had bought the property, as an investment. Leo Large was manager. Reeder’s job was to keep the owners out of Large’s way. Reeder took the owners out on horses, adventuring. He stayed there for a year.
Around that time was helping Tish Benson with her and Bud Benson’s cows, when one broke Reeder’s leg in many places. Reeder was in a cast for more than a year. He said even though he had workman’s compensation, he owed everybody: the power company, the phone company, the grocery store, the co-op.
In 1987, he then went to Union Carbide, by then Umetco, to work on the reclamation of Uravan, under boss Gene Greenwood. He was just getting over his broken leg and was the first person they hired outside of ex-Carbide employees. It was 1987 that he was hired on as mechanic. He stayed there until 1993 and paid every debt he owed.
After the Uravan clean-up was complete, he went to work for West Montrose County as an operator, driving a truck and running loaders. That’s also when things began to change dramatically in Reeder’s life. His wife had a heart attack in 1994.
Reeder said the county job was both the worst and best of his life. He made very little wages. At the same time, with a wife who was living for two months in Denver and in need of a heart transplant, he somehow never missed a paycheck. The county continued to pay him. People donated sick days and more.
Linda Reeder never got the heart transplant. She passed Feb. 15, 1995.
Reeder kept working for West Montrose County, and thank goodness for the insurance, which paid their hospital bills, totalling nearly half a million dollars back then.
