An article about “Deadly Cow Attacks in Switzerland Trigger Fears on Hiking Paths” triggered a memory an event from my distant past.

I grew up in a house on Blackhorse Hill Road in Coatesville. Through the woods and over the hill from my house was our “baseball field”. We shared our field with steers from Spackman’s farm. We had special rules for ground balls. The steers were docile, maybe because they were around people a lot and it because they knew us and we didn’t bother them. Ok, my collie dog herded them a little too. I knew that bulls were dangerous but I regarded steers as docile.


I was a student at an art school in York, PA. In a field near Stewartstown, PA I sat down in a pastoral setting to sketch an interesting tree that would go into a painting later. There were nine young steers or yearlings about one hundred fifty yards away on a ridge. I was there about twenty minutes when one of the steers, who assumed leadership of the herd, made a sort of high pitched moo while holding his head up and back. And then the group of them charged down the hill. Just playing, I thought.


It began to look more serious when they came to a stop about fifty yards away and spread out in a line like cavalry getting ready to charge the enemy.


I still did not get out of my position seated on the grass. I thought, I'm less threatening that way and they’re only playing.


They walked slowly towards me still in their cavalry charge formation then some of them fanned out behind me. They formed a circle with me in the center and then slowly walked towards me closing the circle. The cavalry lieutenant leader steer stopped now and then to paw at the earth and snort.


I thought it was time to go to the fence. The fence was about thirty yards away. By the time I started to pick up my stuff the circle of steers closed and they were about five feet away, still moving towards me. There was only about three feet of space between each steer. As I was completely surrounded I chose to slooowly walk between the cavalry lieutenant steer and one of his more docile looking troopers. I moved through them at a controlled slooow pace being careful not to touch them. Once I got past the steers I could feel them breathing behind me. When I climbed the fence their leader who was close enough for me to touch, gave another high pitched moo and short. I turned to watch them gallop off.


I was in a fairly deserted area. There was no one in sight. It was a little scary but I didn’t feel that threatened. Maybe I should have.


Deadly Cow Attacks in Switzerland Trigger Fears on Hiking Paths