“He looked like the famed “Marlboro Man.” Working his horse hard one day in the gusty ranges of northeastern New Mexico, Sam needed a smoke break. He swung off his horse and squatted with his back to the strong wind to shelter his match, reins in his gloved hand. Before he could light up, something spooked his horse, and instantly a white-hot pain shot up Sam’s back. his skin reacted like he’d been seared by a branding iron. Read More …