Our Story
In honor of James "Jimmy" Jamail
07/07/1940 – 12/21/2024
James "Jimmy" Jamail — rancher, neighbor, friend.
In April of 2024, I moved onto the property next door to Mr. Jimmy's. One afternoon I was out weedeating the fence line when this elderly gentleman came speeding over on his side by side. I'll be honest — I was a 23-year-old covered in tattoos, tired from a long day in the Texas sun, and I figured he was coming to complain.
I was wrong. We stood there and talked for over two hours. Mowing, horses, cattle, religion. When we finally wrapped up, he reached into his pocket and handed me a business card.
From then on, whenever I saw Mr. Jimmy outside, I made it a point to go talk to him. And Mr. Jimmy was outside every single day — on his beat-up old Hustler mower he'd named The Yellow Stallion. He loved that thing.
I asked him once, "Mr. Jimmy, why do you mow every day?" He answered slow, in that Texas twang of his: "I love being outdoors. I'm 84 years old and can't get around as well as I used to. Can't get up on a horse no more. So I like to get on my mower and just go."
I'm a full-time firefighter. Some stretches I'd be gone 72 hours at a time. One day I came home after a rough few days at work, dreading having to mow. As I pulled down my road I noticed — my grass was already cut. Clean and perfect.
I was scratching my head when off in the distance I heard the Yellow Stallion coming at a whopping 6 miles an hour, covered in fresh clippings, with an old cowboy in a white t-shirt and a straw hat riding it like he stole it. Mr. Jimmy had cut my entire property. I offered to pay him — repeatedly. He wouldn't hear of it.
Mr. Jimmy passed away on December 21, 2024 — before I ever had the chance to repay his generosity. Mr. Jimmy's Lawn Service is my way of honoring a man who always had a smile on his face and taught me that no matter what life throws at you, sometimes you just hop on that mower and cut some grass.
Because of his kind heart and the overwhelming respect he had for his family, friends, and neighbors, a portion of every job goes toward the Alzheimer's Association and Leukemia research.
I still have that card.