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	About Me Growing up on a cattle ranch on the plains, smack dab in between two towns, one named Bison and another named Buffalo, I remember several times finding buffalo horn caps lying in the grassy pastures. All this was a good hundred years after the last buffalo were gone, but those horn caps were still there, the last remnants of the last wild bison. My parents and grandparents instilled in me a love for conservation. I was taught to cherish the native grasses and flowers. I felt cheated for being born too late to see the millions of bison that roamed these plains. I hurt for the Native Americans. My heroes were McLaughlin, DuPris, and Phillips for their valient efforts to ensure the bison survived.