When we lived on the ranch Trey's Dad was our well man. We got to know Trey because he rode along on well calls with his Dad. I don't know the details but Trey was born with some of his bones in his back missing so he was never able to walk. When he was born evidently his Mother was not able to handle the burden and left Trey and his Dad. His Dad was both Father and Mother and did the best job he could. Taking him to parties in town and leaving him with his friends until he called his Dad to come pick him up. Taking him riding in the truck to look for wild hogs, hunting and anything a normal preteen was doing. John started inviting him out to hunt at the ranch. John and his Dad would lift him in his wheel chair onto the back of a truck and he would watch for deer. He never shot one and I don't know if he had the aim to shoot a deer or not but it made him feel normal when the other boys would talk of their deer hunting trips. The doctors had hopes of a surgery that would "fix" him when he became a certain age but he grew worse and passed before that time. We stopped at his grave site today.