Life on Thoroughbred “Dirt Tracks”

Folks who follow Thoroughbred racing on TV only see the pomp and ceremony in gorgeous, bucolic settings – IOW, the elites – not the mundane and yes, often seedy, environs of the small, cheap, so-called “dirt” tracks. It is rare for trainers from these small tracks to make the big time. Jack Van Berg was one of them. I worked for him briefly at Ak-Sar-Ben, which, by the way, is Nebraska spelled backwards.

I first began in the early ’70’s at Fonner Park in Grand Island, which has now been incorporated into the State Fairgrounds. Atokad Racetrack (Dakota spelled backwards for the Indian tribe) in So. Sioux City has been closed and Ak-Sar-Ben has been demolished. This was the first race of the season last year at Fonner Park.

The horses are walked to the paddock before every race, where they are tacked up, and a Paddock Judge checks the lip tattoo of each horse. All racehorses have a number tattooed on the underside of their upper lip, which identifies them. He also gives every horse the once-over for any injuries or injection sites. Yes, some of the dirt-track trainers dope their horses. As with any insular culture, there is a hierarchy and most are fully aware of which trainers dope or mistreat their horses.

Usually, it is the groom – the 2nd to lowest in the pecking order – who is at the heads of those horses, trying to keep them calm and focused. Grooms literally live with their horses for every minute of every day within a very transient life. You move from track to track, staying in various places – a hotel in Gr. Island, a rented room in a private home in Columbus, an apartment in Omaha, a hotel across the river in Sioux City.

By the way, if you want to know who to bet on in a race, find a way to talk to the grooms. They know ALL of the inside skinny – which jockey is going to throw which race in order to help a young jockey into the winner’s circle (called a “boat race”), which horse is drugged out of it’s mind, which horse is particularly sore that day, which one is a “machine” horse……they know it all!

Ah yes…..a “machine horse.” I had one of those: Stumpy the Boy, sire named Stumps. It was he who stomped on my bare foot right over my arch (NEVER go barefoot in the shed row) with the sharp toe grabs on his new shoes. I almost passed out and couldn’t wear my boots for weeks but I ran my horse!

This is Secretariat but Stumpy looked exactly like him.

A “machine” is an electric buzzer that jockeys hold in their hands or, if there is a “shakedown” in the starting gate, hide in their clothes. Stumpy would be 15 lengths behind into the last turn, yet end up 10 lengths in front at the finish line! He was THAT fast but it took a shock from a machine to get him moving! Here’s a trick for you: when you see a horse corkscrewing their tail, going round and round, that is often an indication they were just “plugged in.”

Stumpy did NOT like men – he had been hand-raised by a woman; he also hated for someone to stand outside his stall and look at him – with Stumpy, you did NOT dawdle in front of the stall. Walk right in or he would come at you with ears laid back and teeth bared. I put a metal gate on his stall rather than the webbing seen in this picture of a shed row on the backside at Belmont Park.

A groom’s life is repetitive – every single day, there are certain activities that must be completed for each horse and there are generally 4 horses for each groom.

Each horse must be fed at the same time every day with it’s own individualized feed mix, with supplements and medications. In the spring, it is around 6 am; in the heat of the summer, it is 4:30 am. When it is 90 degrees and humid by 8 am, you want your horses done with their workouts and back in the barn early. While they eat, the grooms head to the track kitchen to fill their own bellies, gulp as much strong black coffee as possible, and gossip; back to the barn within an hour or so, often making a stop at the head on the way back since your barn is a long way to walk.

The trainer will have provided instructions as to which horse is to be taken to the track to work-out and which are to be just walked. Most trainers have “hot walkers,” i.e., people who walk the horse around in a circle. Many also have mechanical walkers, such as this homemade one.

Automatic Walker

Some horses are very laissez-faire about this procedure, while others are absolutely terrified. The on/off switch is at the center – if a horse is acting up on the walker, you take your life in your hands trying to get to the on/off switch, all while holding your horse. So, you wait until the open spot comes around, step in and walk along as you connect the snap to your horse’s halter. It takes talent and agility!!

While the horse is out of the stall, you clean the stall, re-bed it, wash the feed and water tubs, and refresh the water and hay. You bring the walking horse in and commence the daily grooming – brushing, clipping, cleaning and treating the hooves, etc., etc. Some horses have their legs rubbed each day with liniment and stall bandages that must be applied carefully – too tight in the wrong direction and you run the risk of a “bowed” (i.e., damaged) tendon.

If your horse has been to the track that morning, about the time you get the stall done, the exercise rider is bringing your horse back and it is now time for the bath. I always trained my horses to ground-tie, i.e., I could drop the lead shank on the ground, say “stand,” and they would stay there while I bathed them. That proved challenging at the Columbus track, since our barn was located just 20 feet from the railroad tracks. THAT was fun!!!! Not really so grand, in truth.

Grandstand at Columbus, NE

Another of my favorites, Z Irish Lover, was indeed, the lover in the stable! Everyone simply adored her – she was a laid back, lanky bay mare, with white markings, who simply loved people – ALL people – but especially children. It is rare, indeed, to find a Thoroughbred race horse who can be trusted with children. Lover was that one! After a race, the horses have to be “cooled out,” or walked and watered until the sweat dries, they are breathing normally and their adrenaline has leveled off. Lover always tried to go down the shed row where the most people were located. She loved the attention.

Generic pic

Of course, we grooms always wanted our horses to look especially pretty. We would often make our own yarn pompoms, in the owner’s racing colors – Gary’s were Kelly green and white (his last name was Kelley). I would use a white bridle on her, with green and white pompoms in her braided mane and tail, and green or white “rundown” bandages. These are stretchy bandages that provide a little bit of support for their legs during a race. These are bell boots to protect the coronet band, from which the hoof grows (white area at top in pic below).

Coronet Band

There are different classes of races at every track: allowance, stakes, claiming, maiden, etc. I won’t get into the details but will provide a link for those who are interested. The majority of the races on the dirt tracks are claiming races – btw, if the horse dies during the race? Too bad – you just bought yourself a dead horse!

“Claiming Races are when owners can buy or sell their thoroughbred horses. Every thoroughbred horse running in a Claiming Race can be purchased (“claimed”) for a specific claiming price prior to the race. The horses usually have a similar value in price, bloodlines, and age.

A claim has to be put in before the actual race goes off. The outcome of the race is inconsequential once the horse has been claimed. The prices range on a low end of $1,000 to as much as $100,000.

The previous owner receives any winnings if the horse is in the money and the new owner receives the horse. Over half of the Thoroughbred Horse Races in America are Claiming Races, this serves as a way for owners to buy and sell horses.”

https://horseracingbettingknowledge.com/types-and-classes-of-horse-racing/

Lover always ran in stakes races but did not have the skills and ability necessary for the top races. She won repeatedly up to a certain level but was unable to compete above that. Finally, the owner decided to run her in a $15,000 claiming race, thinking no-one would take her for that amount. Lo and behold! She was claimed!!! It was THE hardest day ever for all of us working for Gary.

As her groom, it was my responsibility to take her over to the claiming shed so the owner could take possession. I cried all the way and passed by one of my fellow grooms on the way who was also in tears. I was required to remove her bridle and watch as they put on their own halter. I almost exploded when I saw them put the chain over her nose. There are many methods used to control a horse with a lead shank – usually leather with a measure of chain and a snap at the end. Some horses need this chain over their nose, some under their chin, and some inside their upper lip on their gums, called a “lip chain,” in order to control them. Lover NEVER needed such harsh tactics! I refused to allow them to take her away until they moved that chain!

The only thing that gave me any solace was that she had been purchased for breeding purposes and would never be raced again. Some years later, when my b-Mom was working on the racetrack in New Mexico, she happened to see a young horse on the program whose dam was Z Irish Lover. She bet on her because she remembered me raving about Lover and won hundreds of $$$’s on her win ticket.

I was happy envisioning my Lover romping in the fields with her foal by her side!

Generic pic

Hidden Depths

One of the highlights of our Saturday shopping expedition with our granddaughter was PIZZA for lunch!  The pizza place in the mall is in the food court on the upper level of the mall.  Disclaimer: Food Court at this point in time is probably a misnomer.  The upper level used to have a Friendly’s Restaurant anchoring the section on the left, followed by a Burger King, an Arby’s, a Video Arcade, a Chinese Restaurant, a deli, the pizza place and a coffee stand.  On the opposite side of the food court was the cineplex.  Today, the Chinese place, the pizza place and the coffee stand are all that remains of the “food court”.  Sad.

Today, however, the mall was buzzing.  The Easter Bunny was in house for photos and vendors were on site—mostly businesses, but a few crafters as well.  Upstairs, we got our pizza slices and drinks and sat at a table to enjoy our food and people watch a bit.

We weren’t disappointed!  The older folk were mostly in jeans and shirts, jackets, that type of thing, but the younger people?  My goodness! Ripped jeans, short skirts, and far out shoes—each more outlandish than the previous ones!  But one guy stood out.  I saw him standing at the pizza counter and he was sporting a bleached pony tail pulled over his left ear protruding under a ball cap turned sideways.  His face was adorned by several piercings and his earlobes sported giant purple buttons—not ON his lobes—IN his lobes.

As he was ordering pizza, a woman approached with a toddler and a stroller.  She had BRIGHT blue hair, at least 4 pairs of earrings and looked to be dressed in 3 or four layers.  I could see leggings, and a plaid skirt, and several brightly colored shirts under a thin jacket. 

The toddler was a little girl, with delicate features but big brown eyes, wearing an adorable matching outfit in soft pink.  The baby in the stroller was equally striking and smiling profusely.

As we ate, we all seemed to watch the couple and the family dynamic unfolding.  The mother seemed brutish and the father quite timid and I realized we were staring at them like they were in an aquarium tank. So I hurried everyone along so we could leave the food court.

Our granddaughter wanted to go to Burlington’s and she found several items she wanted to try on.  Grandpa sat outside in the mall area, while I went with her and sat outside the dressing room.  I watched ladies come and go, browsing and going in and out of the dressing rooms when something bright blue caught my eye. I turned and saw the young woman storming thru the aisles.  Lagging behind her was the young man pushing the stroller. The baby was swaddled in a blanket and the toddler was grasping the side of the stroller and walking along.

As I sat and watched, he spoke softly to the toddler and cooed to the baby.  As they passed me, the toddler was saying “wowwowwowwow…” and the young man was repeating “wowwowwowwow…” and smiling at her.

It was perfectly charming and adorable.  Then the toddler stopped suddenly and stared up at him and reached her arms up.  He swiftly picked her up and cradled her close and kissed her forehead.  She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and hugged him. 

All my preconceptions about the young man vanished and I found myself smiling at the young father and admonishing myself. When the young man saw me smiling, he blushed and smiled back at me.

You never know what lies beneath the surface…in the hidden depths.

CHRISTMAS SURPRISE

In 2008, I was living with HB and SIL in a house in Manassas, VA on a major roadway with a lot of traffic, although it was only a two-lane road. It was Christmas but it was unseasonably warm that year. HB and SIL were watching TV and, of course, I was sitting at my computer, which was directly in front of a window.

Our House in Manassas

All of a sudden, I heard a loud crash and looked up to see that an SUV had crashed into a tree across the street. It hit the tree and bounced back; I saw the driver’s door open and a man got out, with an obvious leg injury – he fell up against the SUV and kind of rolled down the side of it towards the front of the vehicle.

Representation from Net

By the time I got up and went to the door, I could no longer see him. Behind the house across the street was a large wooded area – there was a driveway running down the side of the house towards the back. We called 911 to report it and then we all trooped outside to look; a woman had pulled over into our driveway so we chatted with her while we waited.

Within 5 or 10 minutes, the cops arrived and began searching for the driver, who was nowhere to be found. They told us the SUV had just been stolen from someone down the street. I told them that he was obviously injured but that was all I knew. They searched and searched and searched, and finally determined that he must have gone down the driveway into the woods. So they sent a car around to the other side of the woods to search from that side. They even had a helicopter up looking for him.

Representation from Net

After about 45 minutes, another cop car pulled up with a canine unit. They brought the dog out and had him jump into the SUV to get the man’s scent. He jumped back down and went directly to the tree at the front of the SUV!

Representation from Net

Turns out, the guy had buried himself in the leaves and was there the whole time!!!! They had never even looked there!!! We also found out he was an illegal – sometimes I swore half of Manassas was made up of illegals, there were so many, including MS-13!

HB and SIL had already made their decision by then to move to Nebraska. She was pregnant with Piper and wouldn’t be able to work and SIL had been laid off from his job. I had not yet decided to join them but, in March of 2009, I also lost my job as General Manager at ResoleAmerica. I decided God was telling me it was time to go home!!!!

First Love

Do you remember your first love? I do. It started when I was nine and my mom gave me my first sewing machine. It looked just like this one.

She began teaching me to sew by drawing shapes on fabric and had me sew around those shapes–learning how to maneuver fabric and control the machine.

When she was certain I could handle the machine, she finally allow me to choose fabrics from her scrap box. Mom was a skilled and proficient sewer–she had all sorts of fabric in there! And the colors!! I fell i love…with FABRIC!

I’ve worked with many different fabrics over the years: cotton, silk, wool, satin, fleece, flannel, denim, tulle.  You name it and I’ve probably worked with it. I’ve made jackets from denim, fleece and corduroy; men’s suits out of wool; shirts out of flannel and blouses out of silk.  And my wedding dress was satin, lace and tulle.

My favorite fabric though is cotton.  It’s easy to work with and comes in soooo many colors and patterns. 

And my favorite expression of my love of fabrics is quilts!

made one like this…
this one too
yup
uh huh
i made this for my granddaughter–minus the little maccas farm–and a green border…like grass

What was YOUR first love?

My Tequila Adventure

After making it through BT and AIT, I was one of two women selected for a special assignment to the Military District of Washington (MDW).

We settled into the brick WAC Shack at Ft. Myer, called that for obvious reasons, at Ft. Myer, VA – it was also called the Cat House because there were 2 black cats that hung out around the barracks. The women all fed and took care of them. And of course there’s that old double entendre again!

WAC Shack Black Cats

The common area on each floor contained couches, coffee tables, tables and chairs, several TVs, and vending machines for snacks. They also had vending machines with beer, sodas, juices and water. Just like a college dorm.

Carole and I were both finally assigned to a long-term program called the SDRP at the Pentagon and shared office space with 7-8 other people. That summer, the head guy asked his secretary, Sylvia, to plan an outing for everyone – a dinner cruise on the riverboat Dandy. Fancy meal, cruising down the river, gazing at the lights of DC, music playing, dancing, with the partner of our choice or none at all – I wasn’t seeing anyone at the time. Sounded delightful! But it was a BYOB – they couldn’t pay for alcohol.

I bought a bottle of Jose Cuervo Gold Tequila – I cracked it and had one shot, capped it and stashed it in my wall locker until the party – expensive shit for a lowly little PFC!! I promptly forgot about it – it was several weeks yet before the party. At some point in the next week or so, the 1st Sergeant called a surprise inspection of our wing of the barracks.

Late that morning, Sylvia waved me over and said in a low key voice…”You have a call from the CSM at MDW and he doesn’t sound happy!” Uh-oh! So I picked up the phone and the first thing I heard was, “PFC Atkins, please do NOT tell me you had a bottle of tequila in your wall locker!”

Uh…..”yes CSM.” “Were you not aware, PFC Atkins, that you are NOT allowed to have alcohol beverages in your wall locker?” “No, CSM.” Deep sigh….”PFC Atkins, report to the 1st Seargeant at Ft. Meyer no later than 4 pm today.” “Yes, CSM.”

I was scared to death – oh, fuck! I was in BIG trouble. One did NOT want to face the 1st SGT!!!! So, off I went on the bus from the Pentagon to Ft. Myer. I presented myself to his secretary and was ushered into his office. I marched over and stood at attention in front of his desk.

(Not me but that style of uniform)

He toyed with me – oh, man, did he EVER toy with me! Question after question after question, reading me the riot act. All the while, I was “Yes, 1st Sergeant’ing” continuously. After I explained, in detail, the cruise that Col. Miller had arranged for us, he then turned to the tequila.

Hmmm, he said, “Cuervo Gold – that’s good tequila!” “Yes, 1st SGT.” “That’s expensive tequila!” “Yes, 1st SGT.” “That bottle has barely been cracked!” “Yes, 1st SGT.” “Sure would be a shame to pour it out!” “YES, 1ST SGT!”

Meanwhile, he’s walking over to the sink (oh, shit!) and starts to uncap it and tip it over the sink. Watching me all the while. Azzwipe!!! He then stopped, capped the bottle, returned to his desk and told me never, ever to have liquor in my wall locker again. He was willing to turn the bottle over to a family member or friend from off-base who would keep it for me until the party.

The only acceptable person I knew was Sylvia, from the office. She graciously agreed to come with me on the bus to Ft. Meyer, collect the bottle directly from the 1st SGT, and hold it for me until the party.

We returned to the Pentagon – she took that bottle of tequila and stashed it in the safe behind her desk!!!! That is where it remained until the party.

SMDH – can’t have the danged thing in my wall locker but we COULD store it in the safe, with all of the classified documents, at the Pentagon!!!!!

WHO KNEW!!??!!??

Shooting at Transformers

One of the entertainments in and around our small towns in the summer was shooting at transformers on the county roads. No, it’s certainly not anything I ever tried but these were friends of one of the elite young men of Norfolk who could get away with anything he damned well pleased so……except this little escapade ended up killing him and two other kids!

I am using full names because these people are either dead or somewhere in another part of the country and this occurred when I was 16 in 1969!

Transformer

Four teenagers headed out mid-afternoon on a Saturday, roaming the back roads, and drinking beer – a given! The driver was the older sister of two with whom my sister and I were close friends, Carolyn & Holly; I also went to parochial and high school with Holly. Carolyn was dating the bad boy in town, Miles Amen whose dad was the Postmaster in Norfolk. MY Father worked for him!

In the back seat of the 2 – door car sat a very popular HS football player, Donnie Straight, and Kristi Love, a female friend. Among my close group of friends was Donnie’s GF, Judi Upton, of Indian (US) heritage. She had been invited on the outing but had another commitment.

Of course, Miles had brought his rifle – IDR whether it was a shotgun or a 20/20 or what. They pulled over to the side of the deserted gravel road near a transformer – Miles opened the car door and balanced the weapon on the top of the door. He took a few shots and missed – he tried one more time and hit the wire, which promptly whipped around and landed across the hood of the car.

Miles was electrocuted immediately! As Carolyn reached out her hand from the driver’s seat to touch him as he fell into the car, literal spurts of fire raced up her arm. Donnie quickly realized the position they were in, while Kristi was screaming her head off, frantic to get out – Miles’ body was blocking the seat back – he couldn’t push it far enough forward to get clear enough to jump.

He realized he MUST avoid touching the ground and the car at the same time. He tried to swing out of the door but the seat back accidentally flipped back and knocked him off-balance. He fell and died immediately.

Somehow…..even she can’t remember exactly how…..Kristi grabbed the seatbelt hanging from the ceiling, rolled the window down on her side, and climbed as far out as she could. At that point, she passed out and remembers nothing else until she woke up in a heap on the gravel road, next to the car. These were her recollections.

For my part….it was a particularly bad time for me at home and I had only recently been accepted and welcomed into this group of friends. Judi and I also shared first names and had been on an escapade or two together – we were close! She desperately needed to be with her and Donnie’s friends at that moment and that was US!

I begged my parents to let me take the Black Orchid (Dad’s car) to pick her up. Nope – not your business, she needs to be with her family now! What they refused to accept was that her family never approved of Donnie and she needed to get away from them.

Ours was black and white

Finally, they did agree to let me go with another friend, Joyce, who picked me up. We spent hours just driving around with Judi……it truly was a heart breaking time! Indeed, the entire town of Norfolk mourned!