When they came of age, Larry’s father and uncle, Edgar Wayne Patterson and Will Nelson Patterson joined in the business. 

“The four of them made auctions all over the mid-South, buying calves and cattle and shipping them all over the United States.” 

If moving nearly 2,000 head a week wasn’t enough, Edgar and Will bought an auction yard. That was where Larry fell in love for the first time. 

He says, “From the time I was able to walk, I was at the stockyards and punching cows, trying to help do whatever I could as a little boy.” 

In high school, he met his second love: Betty Lou Bolton. The 21th century hadn’t turned yet, but there was a familiar problem facing the agriculture industry. Although Betty’s family was a farming one, there was no one from her generation interested in taking over the operation. 

Larry became first in line for the business’s succession. 

To celebrate the merger, Larry took the first bit of Betty’s maiden name and the first bit of his own last name. BoPat Farms was born. 

When Larry first took over, the farm was home to row crops, corn, soybeans and cotton. It was an impressive lineup, but he thought something was missing. He brought his first purebred Angus female in 1967 and became a member of the American Angus Association just three years later. 

In the time since, the herd has grown from 10 cows to the 200-some females that graze in Tennessee today. With his success as a cattleman, Larry never would have thought he would come full circle and be faced with the same problem responsible for his own start in the industry. 

Ten years ago, he stood facing a future where the continuation of BoPat Farms wasn’t guaranteed. Though he had three daughters, each had ambitions that led them away from agriculture. It wasn’t until his two of his seven grandchildren were old enough to express interest in the farm that Larry saw a light at the end of the tunnel. 

The revitalization 

“When I was a kid playing baseball, I still wanted to be a cowboy,” explains Peyton Pruett, sounding a bit like Larry as he describes his childhood.

“That’s what I enjoyed doing. I really didn’t know anything else. I fell in love with the business and the industry at a young age and kind of jumped both feet in and took it full force.”

While Pruett was raised on the farm, his cousin Patterson Freeman lived 45 minutes down the road from the operation’s homebase in Bradford, Tenn. Despite the distance, Freeman also spent his early years idolizing his Grandpa Larry and looking forward to the weekends he got to spend with the Angus herd. 

“It was real early on that we knew we kind of had a knack and an itch for this, so we stuck around to scratch it,” Freeman adds. 

“I’ve tried to raise these boys and my family with Christian ethics … I think that carries well with us down through the years,” Larry says. “This industry is tough. The only people that can handle it are people that love it. It’s got to be in the blood.”

Besides the grit they inherited from Larry, Freeman says there’s a sense of pride he takes in carrying the BoPat name. 

“You don’t want to see it end,” he explains of his decision to come back to the farm. 

Part of that hope in the future lies with the eight great-grandchildren Larry’s proud to list off by name and age. While there’s no expectations, fingers are crossed the fifth generation of the family will share the same love for the cattle. 

“I wouldn’t push it on them, but if it was something they wanted, I wanted it to be here for them,” Freeman adds of his own two boys. “That BP sign has been out there on that roadside my whole life, so I don’t really want to see it go now.” 

With some customers that have been buying BoPat bulls for more than 30 years, Pruett says he hopes they’ll continue to sell for another 30 years. Until then, Larry won’t let any of the family forget that there’s plenty of time to be thankful for where the farm is at now. 

“I’m thankful the Lord blesses me every morning — at my age, that I get up and go to work.” 

As he and his two grandsons meet in the office every morning, ready to plan their day, there’s an easy reminder of why they do what they do. 

That old desk isn’t just for writing. It’s to celebrate how far their family has come.