Her then-strawberry blonde bob saluted T-Boz from girl group TLC. When that black-on-black Ford Explorer pulled up in the grandparents’ dirt driveway, her neon windbreaker and doorknocker earrings sufficed as a rather loud hey y’all. Auntie Kathy arrived at Edward Hill Farm in Baldwin County, Georgia, in the 1990s to organize backyard parties. Those family functions that were all that and a bag of chips. Her kids, Chauncey and Courtney, jumped out the back seat with Kris Kross “Jump” energy. The two hugged and joined their five farm cousins – Renee, Candace, Elizabeth, Edward, and Kelli – for hayfield water fights, trampoline flipping competitions, outdoor basketball pickup games, and rounds of Sonic the Hedgehog on Sega Genesis.

The main event of the weekend: Cowgirl Kathy mounting some of the farm’s most rowdy steeds then taking off across the Henry Brown Field. “I remember like it was yesterday,” said auntie about the first time she saddled up at age 21. “My brother, Steve, was giving me a few pointers on what to do. All of a sudden, that appaloosa Ringo took off straight for the barn. Then, Ringo just stopped.” Next thing auntie knew, she was sprawled in a pile of hay. “Steve grabbed my hand to help me up,” said the now 62-year-old cowgirl giggling. “He dusted me off saying: ‘You’re a real cowgirl now.’” He taught her how to herd the farm’s cattle and check property lines on Ringo next.

That day forward, she welcomed a ride on unpredictable or stubborn horses. Cowgirl Kathy became an all-eyes-on-me rider. A naturally gifted horse handler. Driven to train horses into velvety walking, trotting, and running companions. With a 1990s R&B and hip hop verve to her country Western wear. One of her favored horses to jog into a Southern scene was a coal black Tennessee Walker named Midnight. “One night my Daddy – the kid’s late Grandpa Amos Morrow – wanted to race on a Baldwin County backroad,” she said. “We took off in the dark, and when the dust settled, there was my little niece, Candace. Still on Shetland pony Willie. That pony and Candace kept up with us, which tickles me to this day.” Whether a trail ride, holiday parade, or area rodeo in Smalltown USA, auntie made her horsemanship prowess known.

“You lookin’ mighty good on that horse cowgirl,” one parade onlooker blurted in an Albany State University holiday parade with her father. “That’s a bad cowgirl right there,” another said as the holiday herd pranced down Pine Avenue. Albany is where childhood happened with her Dad, mother June Morrow, and Cowboy Steve. Edward Hill Farm is where her grandpa Dolly Hill and grandma Harriette Hill owned and operated 300 acres of centennial land until Steve inherited it. She recalled between ages 4 and 5 watching Grandma Harriette hang laundry on the clothesline in a signature house dress.

“Grandma would slick her wavy black hair back on those sweaty days,” said Cowgirl Kathy. “I loved how she took care of her house. Observing her take that basket outside to hang out clothes intrigued me because my Mama used a washer and dryer.” Auntie appreciated the homesteading idiosyncrasies of her grandparents. Rabbit catching. Fruit preserving. Old-fashioned wash boarding robes. Their slow-paced, pensive mannerisms. Yet, a side of her craved racy pursuits. From her hair, style, horseback interests. By the time Cowgirl Kathy hit 30, she wanted to push her riding potential. A few family travels to the Bill Pickett Invitational Rodeo that toured in Atlanta mesmerized her in the barrel racing category.

So she asked her brother to teach her how to turn and burn. “Steve was a smooth rider and calf roper,” she said. “I was a tomboy determined to keep up with him. I always looked up to my brother. He’s such a good trainer to this day.” And dancer. The brother-sister riding team loved to two-step. When Cowgirl Kathy’s high school alma mater, Westover Hill School, hosted a 1978 talent show her 10th-grade year, Cowboy Steve returned home from Savannah State University to showcase their moves together. They didn’t win, but the team effort became a timeless moment the siblings often recreate when James Brown, Chaka Khan, or The Gap Band plays on the farm. 

Auntie knew she could count on him again years later when there was a jackpot rodeo taking place 30 minutes away in Putnam County. Cowboy Steve stationed barrels on the family farm for practice sessions. The day auntie showed up in the Eatonton arena with her brother’s paint horse, Bo, the jitters kicked in. Accompanied by a jolt of joy and thrill to try something new as a Western rider. A 30-year-old rookie competing against 16-year-old professionals, she didn’t care. All smiles instead. Auntie clocked 21 seconds. The other competitors ran around 16 seconds.

“I leaned into the first barrel and sank into the saddle,” she said with excitement in her hazel eyes. “Bo spun out of that first barrel. There was no better feeling than hitting those turns and Bo sliding out of them like it was nothing.” Cowgirl Kathy gave the rural rodeo circuit a few more attempts until wifehood, motherhood, and her career trumped horseback riding regularly. Weekly riding moved to monthly gatherings in the saddle to occasional holiday processions. Nowadays, she’s a human resources executive director at Albany Technical College. With a major in criminal justice and emphasis in juvenile delinquency from Florida Agricultural & Mechanical University, the 1985 alumna savored her farming roots and held an affinity for kids.

“I wanted to work with troubled youth,” she said. “My kids, nieces, and nephew had such a safe and fun lifestyle on Edward Hill Farm. That wasn’t a reality for a lot of children I mentored.” Throughout the decades, Cowgirl Kathy became the ultimate auntie to so many young people and rural families across the Peach State. Now that her and Cowboy Steve’s kids are grown, that itch to make horseback riding habitual has returned. “Oh, I’m ready,” she said. “When I’m riding with my brother and his kids, I’m home.”