Disappearing Breed
Frank Reznicek and his family have owned the Kaechele Ranch, a 13,000-acre cattle operation located in Southeast Texas for over 115 years. Nearly every week, he receives calls from land developers asking to buy his land. With nearby city limit signs creeping towards their property, the history and culture of the area, their way of life, and future of their business is threatened to come to a halt.
Frank, the Head Rancher of the Kaechele Ranch, and his son, Ryan, scale through the fields of the Texas prairie each morning as the sun rises above the horizon. The Kaechele Ranch was founded in 1899 by the grandfather of Frank's wife, Bonnie. The 13,000-acre ranch in southeast Texas is located along the San Bernard River, where the Austin, Colorado and Wharton County lines meet.
Frank and Ryan herd a cow into the barn in order to get vaccinated.
An Ankole-Watsui steer, also known as a Ankole Longhorn, restlessly stands in a pen under the main barn of the Kaechele Ranch during in the scorching summer heat.
A calf anxiously paces across a pin in a local cattle auction. Frank has noticed a change in the area's cattle ranching culture over time, with increased use of electric cattle prods and machinery, among other things. The Texas cattle industry has become about quantity, he says. He tries to make his ranch still about quality, he says.
The daily weather forecast is irrelevant in their decision to work. Rain. Scorching temperatures. The plume of dust left after driving cattle during the dry months. It does not matter. They often work well into the night. "I think most people in the United States take food for granted," Frank said.
"The heat is bad, but the cold is worse," Frank said. "We have to go out there in the cold and rain, pick up a little baby, clean it up and give it milk."
Bonnie Reznicek brings lunch to her family nearly everyday. Her grandfather founded the ranch. As a child, she remembers coming home from school to go out to the barn to do her chores. She has spent her life living and and working on the ranch, just as her son now does the same.
Ryan Reznicek makes notes of cattle in the holding pen. When his dad retires, Ryan will most likely assume the role of Head Rancher.
![When I'm gone, I don't know how Ryan is going to work it [the ranch] by himself," Frank said.
The worry is that cement roads will replace the seemingly endless gravel roads. The worry is that the connection with nature that comes with being steward](https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/60aeda1794a65441a5659668/9dbfa06c-e8c3-4d04-bee4-1bc644412588/CPOY_Kaechele+Ranch_13.JPG)
When I'm gone, I don't know how Ryan is going to work it [the ranch] by himself," Frank said. The worry is that cement roads will replace the seemingly endless gravel roads. The worry is that the connection with nature that comes with being stewards of the land will be replaced tract housing and massive housing developments. The worry is that his land, his life's work, and its history, will be forgotten.
"I worry about it every day, even though it's not mine," Frank said. "I would just hate to see what Bonnie's grandfather and dad, what they worked for all of their lives, turn out to be like Fulshear, Texas. I would just hate that. To me, that would be the worst thing."