MOVING ON... a change of pace (Part 60a)

Once the decision was made I focused my attention on getting the house trailer moved from Dan's farm. My grandmother was stabilized over that weekend which allowed everyone to resume some semblance of normal activity. I’d already spoken to my trailer moving friend (Ray) and he, to save me money, had been holding off until he had a Southbound delivery so he could bring my unit back without a "deadhead" charge. With what I’d just gone through I didn’t want to wait any longer. I wanted to be with my own family, in my own quarters and as soon as possible and although short of cash, was willing to pay the extra. I volunteered to ride “shotgun”, a job his wife somewhat reluctantly held, which helped reduce the cost a little.

There were travel restrictions for going through the city with over sized trailers. It was a 500 mile round trip and Roy felt that if we left around 3pm we’d get to the farm around 9pm. I’d already prepared the trailer to be moved so that all we had to do was to remove the cement blocks that stabilized it and then we’d be on our way. Ray wanted to go through the city around 3am and arrive at the trailer park around 6am. Everything went well and we met all the targets he had set. We had to wait until 8am for the owners of the park to show up before placing it. I pretty much knew where it was going. As the park was developed trailers kept getting longer and longer. When it was opened a 35 footer was considered “big”. Mine was 41 feet in length and I’d been told that the owners wanted me in with the 40 footers. That’s pretty much why we had to wait. They wanted to see if they could “shoehorn” my unit into that area. Once we started it was obvious that Ray knew what he was doing. As we started backing the unit into the designated space the only question was would the back end fit. All units were placed at an angle to make it easier to get them in and out. I was designated the “watcher” which meant I had to go into the neighbor’s yard to make sure my unit didn’t hit the unit that was behind mine. As I started into the yard I saw something that made me excited. On the washline was a single pair of what looked like white panties. I made sure I took a circuitous route to make an inspection. A much closer view showed they were actually pale lavender and had a lace cutout in the front. The sight of them made me want to know what the owner of them looked like.

The trailer fit. It couldn’t have gone back 6 inches more. The problem was actually the front of the unit. The tongue of every trailer had to fit behind this invisible line. It had to do with the width of the streets and the Fire Department. In any case, my unit was right on the line and the back end wasn’t touching anything. The trailer was “in place” and, with the exception of having the electric meter installed, ready for occupancy. I was ready right then and there but I knew there was a lot of work yet to be done.

Elle and I unpacked everything that afternoon. We had any number of visitors coming by to welcome us. We actually had two invitations for supper that night but Elle had to get back to the baby. I got to see the lady from next door whose panties I’d viewed in the morning. Not to be critical but the panties looked better than she did. Her name was Louise and she did have a nice figure. Her husband, Tom, worked at the local aerospace company and she was a stay at home mom taking care of her two boys who were just a bit older than our kids. One of the other couples who had invited us to eat with them was rather interesting and I looked forward to getting to know them. The man was stationed at the Air Force base just eight miles down the road. His wife, also a stay at home mom, was a little on the heavy side but she was also very cute. She was wearing short shorts and when she bent over to see what one of her kids wanted I got a very good panty peek as the shorts rode up over her butt cheeks exposing a nice pair of pale pink panties. I was looking forward to seeing more of them!

Because we still had to stay with Elle’s parents I had to be on my “best behavior” that night because Elle was fearful that her parents would hear us. It was kind of funny as I remembered what we used to do on the day bed on their front porch. But I was patient knowing that in a day or two we’d be alone in our own place. We went back again the next day to finish up unpacking and to do some grocery shopping. Now I haven’t said much about Elle’s “problem” mostly because I hadn’t spent much time with her since mid April. Sticking close to her parents house she had ready access to a bathroom so it wasn’t that much of a concern and she got used to not wearing a “package”. When we left to go shopping she neglected to wear one and I wasn’t thinking of it either. We’d been told to go to the brand new Safeway supermarket as they had a greater variety of choices than the old A&P store had. Neither of us had ever seen one as big and we went up and down each and every aisle just looking. Because we were so intrigued neither of us thought about time and how long it’d been since we'd left the trailer. We had our shopping cart just about filled with household supplies and food that didn’t need refrigeration when I heard Elle let out a little squeal and stop walking. I immediately knew what was happening... she was wetting herself. There was no way for her to hide it even though she got as close to the cart as she could. The puddle was about six inches in circumference and her light blue shorts had a much darker hue between her legs. As much as I enjoyed her wetting I only liked it when we were all alone. She was embarrassed and I was embarrassed for her. There wasn’t anything she could do to hide it so I told her to go to the car. At least there were clothes at the trailer. As we headed there I remembered the new Plymouth panties that I still hadn't given her and got a bit excited thinking about them. Actually, the incident made me all the more anxious for us to get moved back into the trailer.

The water was turned on so Elle was able to get washed up although it was with cold water. While she was doing that I went into my “stash” and pulled the panties out. When she walked into the bedroom I had them all (5) laid out on the bed. She stopped... looked at them and then at me and had a big smile on her face. It’s kind of funny to write about this now because my focus was on the panties and Elle’s was on something MUCH more interesting. Needless to say I succumbed to what she was thinking about.

To be continued...

THE END OF A DREAM... Epilogue (Part 59c)

I’m one of those people who can make a decision and stick with it and I did in this situation. I’ll give a quick synopsis about the end of my harness racing career so I can get on with the next segment that, I promise, will have much to do with panties.

The following Monday I finally received formal notification of my suspension. The only thing in it was that I had supposedly taken actions that were ”detrimental to the integrity“ of harness racing without list anything specific. I continued to be at a loss for the exact reason having gone over all my actions from the time I arrived at the city track. Long story short... without my being called to a commission office to testify I was notified about two weeks later that I had been reinstated. It coincided with a newspaper release that Antney, his brother and the owner were exonerated from any wrongdoing. It was a tiny little blurb that showed up buried in the sports section. Even though my name had never been mentioned in the newspapers I still felt that I had been smeared by the press and my reputation was tarnished by the headlines (THE FIX IS ON!) that first day. I was happy to know I was ”free“ but I still wanted to know what it was that I, myself, had done to warrant the suspension. Calls to the commission office were never returned. During a Summer visit to my parents, an attorney friend of my father’s heard about my situation and said that he’d contact them by letter. He did get a reply and in spite of his experience as an attorney, was unable to decipher their answer telling me that it was pure doublespeak. As much as I wanted to go speak with Antney I just wouldn’t go visit the track. It took about a week before he finally returned my calls. In his eyes the sum and substance of my involvement was that I had been listed to drive one of the horses trained by him and was deemed guilty by association. Upon hearing Antney tell me that I knew I’d made the right decision to walk away from the business.

I kept my subscription to the trade magazine for no other reason than to try and keep up with some of my friends and, in Dan’s case, I wanted to know how the horses that had been my responsibility made out during the season. The one thing that really got my attention was when I saw that the horse that had gotten me in trouble with him, ”Goldy“ was, indeed, racing as a pacer and not a trotter. I remember seeing that and giving an unseen ”finger“ to Dan. I also remember saying to myself something along the lines of ”Dan... you’re NOT the smartest f___ing trainer in the world!“ And, speaking of Dan, I also wanted to see what happened to my grandfather’s last horse who Dan had ”claimed” from him. Dan actually continued to race him in claiming races and won a couple before he was claimed away from him. After that I lost track of him as there were just too many racetracks open in the Summer to be able to read all the results.

I also saw that AJ was out of the training/driving business and had accepted an associate judgeship with the track where I had primarily worked for him. Eugene was off on his own and had done very well while racing at the Wilmington, Delaware track. I also discovered that Levi, the nephew of Harry and Vi who had sold me the trailers, was not only driving in races but was also winning. I recognized the name of a couple of Harry’s horses and it took a bit for me to realize that the driver was his nephew. I had never learned his last name. I also saw that Clyde, who had stood up for Elle and I at our wedding, ended up working for Dan. All I could do was smile when I saw his name. I just couldn’t see Clyde and Dan getting along. I was curious as to how the two of them hooked up but I made no effort to find out. Another discovery was that the top yearling that AJ had picked out at the sales in the Fall and had been subsequently taken away from him and to another trainer appeared to be as good as they had expected. In spite of the way AJ had treated me at the end of our working relationship I felt badly that he never had a chance to race her. It actually reinforced my dislike for the business. It, to me, was too cutthroat. I'd been raised to be fair and what had happened to AJ was anything but fair.

In spite of the temptation that reading the magazine could've provided I never wavered and never once returned to the track. It was now a part of my past. I was ready for my next "adventure", whatever it was going to be.

To be continued...

THE END OF A DREAM... sad but true (Part 59b)

My first stop was at the Commission office where I was greeted (?) by the lady with the personality of a rock. I asked if there was anybody there who could meet with me to explain why I was suspended. As soon as I asked she got up and walked out of the office without saying a word. To put it mildly, I was pissed! I went over to the door to the inner office and turned the knob and found it was open. I peeked in and saw a man sitting there reading a newspaper. There was a name plate on the desk and I recognized it as one of the race Judges. He gave me a ”look“ as if to say, without words, ”What the **** do you want?“ Having his attention I walked up to the desk and identified myself and told him I was one of the people on the now infamous ”list“ and wanted to know exactly why. I was not discourteous nor did I raise my voice. He stood up and staring at me face to face told me to get out of his office. I stood there for I don’t know how long. He started to move around the end of the desk towards me and that’s when I took my cue and backed out of the door. I couldn’t believe what had just happened.

Before leaving the track I stopped to see Norm at the barn gate, hoping that he’d have some ”inside information“. He was glad to see me but really didn’t have anything but more rumors. I asked if he knew how my horses were doing but he said he didn’t have that kind of information. As I drove back home I formulated a plan to try and come back on Saturday and meet with Mr S to see if there was anything he could do to help me. It was all I had to go on.

My grandfather, satisfied that everything possible was being done to help my grandmother, had made a call to another harness horse owner from town to see if he could get some clarification of my situation. A few years earlier he had owned one of the premier trotting mares in the country and had achieved some notoriety from it. He had ”connections“ and my grandfather hoped that he could at least get an official explanation to help me out. When I arrived back at the hospital he had just called back but my grandfather really didn’t grasp all that he was being told. All it did for me was to make me more anxious. I immediately called the man back and what he told me was VERY interesting.

Supposedly, a trainer/driver who was also working for Antney’s primary owner had been fired by the owner. I knew of him by reputation only as a loudmouth and a drunk. Right after he got fired he went to a bar where, after the races, some of the racetrack judges frequented. Drunk, he claimed he got fired because the owner wanted him to ”not try to win“ so that the odds would go up and then would pay off at a high price when they did. He said he wouldn’t do it and got fired because he disobeyed the owner’s orders. What was worse was that he claimed that the owner had the same ”orders“ out to his other trainer/driver, Antney, and that’s what caused the suspensions.

I heard what he told me but had a hard time digesting it. (This was the capsule version) I thanked him and then started thinking about the situation with Antney. I had no idea how many races he’d won since I’d arrived but I knew that the odds on those horses were not all that long. It just didn’t add up. I remember being mad at how the whole thing had come down... and still wondered how I’d become implicated in it.

It was right about that time when my brother arrived. He’d been doing his Summer training for his ROTC unit and it’d taken a few days to secure his release from it and get transportation home. For me it meant that someone else could stand that night’s vigil and I’d be able to spend time with Elle and the kids (and, oh yeah, the inlaws). With my mind still wrestling with that last information I’d been given I was not good company. My mother in law was pressing me for what I was going to do as she kept reminding me I had a wife and two children to support. I wasn’t in the mood for ”what ifs“. I wanted to know about the present and didn’t know how to get the answer. Because my father in law had to leave so early for his work he and Elle’s mother, thankfully, went to bed around 9pm. I decided that I’d also go to bed early hoping that I’d get some decent sleep. It wasn’t to be. I was wide awake for most of the night. I remember being hung up on the American concept of innocent until proven guilty. I felt that I (and Antney, his brother and the owner) had already been tried and pronounced guilty by the newspapers. I remember thinking that even if we were all told that we were innocent of any wrongdoing the betting public would always remember what they had read. An article in one of the evening newspapers (yes, they still had them back in those days) carried a ”blurb“ that had obviously been planted by the Commission office. It stated that this ”probe“ would guarantee that all harness racing done within the State was on ”the up and up“. I immediately thought about the gas station owner where my little trailer was "stored". I hadn't seen him since the story first hit the newspapers but I knew he was in his glory among his friends. He was one who was totally convinced that they were "fixed".

When I heard my father in law pulling out of the driveway I got up deciding to take a walk on the beach. It was just getting light and I’d always wanted to watch a sunrise from that location. I walked as far to the East as I could. It was a place that Elle and I had been many, many times before but it was the first time for me, alone. I sat on the last jetty and watched it get lighter and lighter. Finally, I saw the first glimpse of the sun. It was a still morning with not even a ripple on the water. As the sun rose higher and higher its image was duplicated in the water. I don’t know how long I was there but when I started back I began a self analysis of my career. By the time I was in front of my parents house I had pretty much decided that maybe harness racing wasn’t really for me. I’d used the excuse that the majority of the horses that I’d driven were ”misfits“ in one way or another to explain the lack of positive results. I did feel that I had a good head for the training aspect of the business but all the focus at that time was on driving (and winning) races. At that period in time, I would have guessed it was probably 85 to 90 percent of the trainers drove there own horses. By the time I got back to Elle’s house I had pretty much made up my mind that even if I were ”cleared“ and got my license back I was done with the horses.

Elle was up and was feeding the baby out in the back yard. I sat down next to them and told her my thoughts. I don’t know if I was hoping she’d try to persuade me not to quit but she didn’t. She just sat there and listened to me go over all the points I’d made to myself on my walk back. Hearing the words actually reinforced my decision. I remember the trip to the hospital and actually being excited about the decision. The first person I told was my father. He wanted to hear all the reasons and when I was done the only thing he stressed was that I still needed to get my name cleared by the Commission. He also told me to wait to tell my grandfather until that time as he was sure it would be a disappointment to him. I agreed and almost immediately felt like the weight of the world had been lifted from me. I had no job or job prospects but I did have my college degree and I was ready to start looking!

To be continued...

THE END OF A DREAM?... sad times (Part 59a)

No one answered, which didn’t surprise me. Whenever my parents went to the races they would always eat in the clubhouse so it made sense that they would’ve already left. I was about to go back to the barn gate when I decided to call Elle’s house and I don’t know why. It was a complete shock to hear Elle’s voice. Right from her very first words I knew something was wrong. “Where are you? Your father's been trying to reach you!” she almost screamed into the phone. I told her I was still at the track and then I innocently asked “Why?” She then told me that my grandmother had had a stroke and was in the hospital and that everybody wanted me home as soon as possible. Back then I really didn’t know what a stroke was but I knew it wasn’t good. My head was now spinning with how to prioritize all my responsibilities... job... horses... family. I told her to try and let my parents know I’d be there as soon as I could. I remember standing there next to the phone trying to figure out just what had to be done. As I stood there I saw a trainer that I barely knew headed into the cook house. I asked him if he had any “news” as to why there was so much security at the barn gate. He told me that the rumor was that Antney and his brother had been suspended for cheating and that all the horses under their care were barred from racing. Even though it was just a rumor it had credibility as I knew that Antney and his brother, like me, were on the "list" and weren’t being allowed into the barn area. What he told me pretty much finalized the fact that I wouldn’t be racing that night.

Back at the barn gate Will showed up and I tried to explain what I knew about the situation. I told him that I hadn’t been formerly notified but that my name was on the “list” that the guard had and that Mr S was going to have to make some kind of arrangement for the two horses that I was caring for. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet and retrieved a card from it. He gave me the telephone number of the racetrack that was just outside the city as well a man's name and for me to have this man paged. That was all he told me. I wanted to smack him up side his head. Here I am trying to do the right thing under very trying circumstances and he’s being a pompous ass. I also needed to get going towards home and the hospital as well. However, I did call the track and after about a half hour got the person I was looking for on the phone. It turned out that it was Mr S’s son. I didn’t even know he had a son and what was more puzzling was that he was also a trainer/driver. I explained what I knew about my situation and he told me he’d take care of everything. As I drove away from the racetrack I realized how little I knew about my employer and was puzzled beyond belief that he hadn't told me about his son.

Both my parents and my grandfather were at the hospital when I arrived. My grandmother was in intensive care and they didn’t think she’d survive the night. She’d actually had two separate strokes with one partially paralyzing her and the other pretty much taking her mind. It was not very good news.

I did get to tell my parents and grandfather about the situation at the track. They all thought it was strange that I had not received any formal notification of the suspension of my license. I told them of the “rumor” but I also told them that I didn’t believe it. In all the time I’d been at the track I’d not heard anything that would give credence to it. I’d found Antney and his brother to be fair and honest and I just didn’t believe it. I told them that, over time, I’d become leery of some of the things the Racing Commission was doing and this just added to it. I told them that I still couldn’t figure out how I was involved since I was not employed by Antney. It truly was a mystery.

By 11pm everyone was pretty much out of it due to the stress of the situation. There was talk of getting some sleep and coming back in the morning but my grandfather was afraid that my grandmother might not make it through the night and wanted a family member to be there so that she wouldn’t die alone. I was still “keyed up” from the situation at the track so I volunteered to stay.

My father returned around 6am to find no change in my grandmother’s condition. He was worried about my grandfather’s state of mind so, seeing that everything was quiet at the hospital, left to go look after him. They arrived back around 9am or so and had a newspaper with them. Right on the front page was a headline “THE FIX IS ON!” with a picture of Antney and one of his horses racing at the track. It was like a dagger through my heart. Here was the profession I’d chosen being exposed on the front page of a city newspaper. I felt betrayed by Antney as well as the whole harness racing industry.

After reading the article I still didn’t have all the information that I needed. All I found out was that an unnamed trainer/driver at the track outside the city (where Mr S's son was racing) was supposedly involved in some race “fixing” and had implicated Antney and his brother. There was no detail at all other than all Antney’s horses were barred from racing and that he and his brother were suspended indefinitely. I continued to wonder how I was involved.

I left around 10am and went to see Elle and the kids. I was still worked up about my suspension but was able to get a nap before going back to the hospital. Another all night vigil found no appreciable change in my grandmother’s condition. The next morning’s newspaper had a few more details but it was written for the “masses” and not for someone involved so it wasn’t very satisfying. Since my grandmother’s condition was “stable“ my father told me to head for the track to see if I could get clarification.

To be continued...

ANOTHER DOSE OF REALITY... uh oh! (Part 58g)

Things went well at work for the next two weeks although Steve was nosed out for the wins. Mr S continued to show his generosity giving me extra money even though there were no wins. Antney was also generous giving me opportunities for extra money on nights when Mr S’s horses weren’t racing. One afternoon he told me that if I were a betting man I should bet one of his horses that night. There was no mention of a “fix” or anything like it and I decided to pass it on to the gas station owner where my trailer was parked. He was appreciative of it even though I told him there were no guarantees. The horse won and I was kicking myself for not betting. In any case I was a “hero” in the eyes of the gas station owner.

I actually found a little free time and there was a mall, supposedly one of the largest in the country, just a short distance from the track. I decided to check it out and, of course, managed to find my way into the lingerie departments of the larger stores. It brought back memories of when I was still going to school in the city and would walk through some of the department stores and visit the lingerie areas. I still hadn't given Elle the new Plymouth panties that were more her size but that didn't deter me when I saw some "interesting " panties on display. There were a couple that really caught my eye. One had a floral print and when I picked it up I found the material to be different. It was cotton but more like the kind you would find in a shirt or blouse. I knew I had to buy one of them. Another had a very different crotch area in that instead of a "half moon" in the rear part it went all the way up to the waist band in an inverted "V". The material was very much like the Plymouth panties in that it had a satin like feel to it. The tag read "Be Free" and I had to have a pair of them as well. I know the price was less than a dollar so it wasn't a hard decision.

By then I had accumulated enough money to pay my trailer moving friend to bring the house trailer North. Elle and I couldn’t wait but there was one thing that was more important coming up. Antney had put me down to drive in my first race at the city track. The horse’s name was Calumet Frisco. He warned me that I'd have my hands full with her in that she was a “puller” meaning that as soon as the starting gate pulled away she was going to want to chase it. Almost all the horses I’d driven up to that time had some sort of quirk so that didn’t really bother me. My parents were going to drive in with Elle to see me make my big time debut. It was on a Wednesday and I remember being more nervous than I’d ever been before. At lunch time I left the barn area to get something to eat and to buy a “proof” of the racing program for that night. I wanted to see the past performances of my competition to get an idea of what the other horses liked to do. When returning to the barn area I had my head buried in the program as I came to the gate. I heard Norm, the guard, call my name and I thought he was going to wish me luck that night. But no... he told me that I couldn’t re-enter the barn area.

My first reaction was that he was just joking as he always had a smile on his face and, if you let him, he’d tell you the latest joke going around. But as i looked at his face I could see that he was dead serious. As I walked over to him two other people were walking through the gate and he called them over and asked to see their licenses. In the almost month that I’d been there I’d never seen him do that before. He had a photographic like memory and once you showed him your license he didn’t need to see it again. I watched as he scanned the cards and then looked at the clipboard he was holding. He waved them through and as I walked up to him asked what was going on. He said he’d been given a list of people who were no longer allowed into the barn area and my name was on it. He turned the clipboard towards me and as my surname started with one of the first letters of the alphabet I could see it right near the top. I also saw Antney’s name as well as that of his brother. I asked Norm what was going on and he pleaded that he didn’t have any idea. I was able to find out that the list originated at the office of the Harness Racing Commission. I headed in that direction knowing that I’d probably have to deal with the surly bitch who had processed my license application. I remember it being around 2pm and walking into the office to find no one there. At first I thought she might be out for a late lunch but when it turned 3pm I walked up to the office door of the presiding judge and knocked. I knocked a few more times and then tried the door. It was locked. By then I was a mess. I had the responsibility of two race horses that I couldn’t get to. I was supposed to be driving in a race that night. My parents and Elle were coming and I didn’t know anything about my situation other than I was on “the list”. I had no idea of where to go to get clarification of the situation. The only place I could think of was the racing directors office.

By the time I got there it was after 4pm and that’s when they closed for the day. I headed back to the barn area gate and found Norm had been relieved and the guy who was there didn’t know anything either. Now I was worried about getting my horses fed and, luckily, saw one of Antney’s grooms going by. I asked him to get a message to Will to ask him to feed and water my horses and then to come to the gate. It wasn’t until then that it came to me that I wouldn’t be racing that night. I didn’t want my father to drive all that way for nothing so ran over to the cook house to call home.

To be continued...

ANOTHER DOSE OF REALITY... getting better (Part 58f)

After feeding the horses at noon I took a deep breath and asked Will if he would feed my two horses later that evening and see that they had water as I wanted to go home to see my wife and children. He never batted an eye when he said, and I quote, “Ten dollars.” It upset me to hear it but I'd cleared it with Mr S to go home for the night as long as my horses were cared for. Since Will, supposedly, worked for Mr S as I did I really didn’t think it was fair. But I really wanted to see Elle and the kids so dug out $10 and handed it to him. There was no “thank you” or any words spoken at all. Strange...

I needed gas to get home and at that period of time almost everything was closed on a Sunday but restaurants. I had wanted to get gas on Saturday but with the arrival of Mr S and the preparation for the race that night I never got a chance. There was a large ESSO station just outside the gates to the track. I took a chance and pulled in although there were no signs of activity. I pulled up to one of the pumps and within a few seconds I saw a man in the doorway to the office waving me on. I knew what he meant but there was no way I was going to make it home and back with the gas I had. I got out and called to him asking if he knew any station that might be open. He walked towards the car and as he did saw the decal on the windshield that gave me entrance into the barn area. He asked if I was a horseman and when I said I was he started asking questions, all of them having to do with rumors that the races were “fixed”. I assured him that, in my experience, I had no knowledge of any “fix”. I don’t think I satisfied him but at least I was able to explain my need for gas. He turned on the pumps and filled my tank. As I paid him I saw a group of trucks parked against a fence to the east side of the building. I don’t know what made me ask but I asked why they were there. He said they were temporarily being stored there. That gave me the idea to ask if I could "store" my little trailer there. I got the normal “line” that trailers were not allowed in the county. I told him about my experience in Boston and how I'd “stored” it there. He smiled and I knew he got what I was leading to. He told me to bring it back the next morning.

I left it parked next to the trucks and went on to work figuring we could work out the details later. I came back at lunch and he told me to come back around 6pm. When I did I found it “buried” between the trucks. He told me that as long as there were no lights in the trailer and I was out of the trailer before six am and not back into it until after dark there shouldn’t be a problem. It would be a little inconvenient but it was better than sleeping in my car. As far as “rent” was concerned all he wanted was to know when a “fix” was in. I wasn’t sure I could deliver on that part of the deal but I told him I would.

My next exposure to being involved with a “horse celebrity” came on Wednesday when a few reporters showed up to watch Super Steve train. One of them was a guy named Tony and I recognized his surname as he covered harness racing for one of the area newspapers. In fact, he had interviewed my grandfather over ten years earlier. After each of the four training sessions he would come up to me and ask how the session went and would ask me if the time on his stopwatch matched mine. I’d never seen or heard of this before.

That contrasted with my training sessions with the other two horses the next day. No one was around, not even Will. I had to do everything myself and that made for a long, long day as I was finally finished around 5pm, a 12 hour day. Antney had asked if I could help him out in the paddock that night as he had five horses racing and there were conflicts with warm up sessions. As tired as I was it meant that I would have the opportunity to be out on the actual race track (as opposed to the training track) and I'd be able to look up into the grandstands and see thousands of race fans as I circled the track. It was great thrill as well as financially rewarding as Antney gave me $5 for each of the three warm up trips that I made for him.

I was able to get both of the horses that I was taking care of and training entered to race that Friday. It created a bit of a problem since I was the groom for both but could only take care of one in the paddock. I’d become friendly with a few of Antney’s grooms and offered them a chance to make a little extra money. Mr S showed up just in time for the first one’s race. That, in itself, was another problem as I had to warm the horses up as well as to care for them. I was a bit upset but remember reminding myself of how much more money I was now making. Mr S owned both horses and he was pleased to get a 2nd and a 3rd for finishes with them. I wasn’t expecting any extra money since neither horse won but as he left for the night I found an extra $10 in my weekly pay envelope. I was glad I didn’t complain.

Saturday night was a repeat of the prior one as far as working with Will was concerned. However, the results of the race were different as Steve nosed his arch rival, Adios B, out for a win. I remember Mr S strutting around the paddock like a banty rooster after the race. I also remember getting another $20 bill when he left for the night. In spite of Will I was really liking the job... and Mr S in spite of his “ways”.

I had to pay Will again when I left for home Sunday afternoon. I was confident enough that the job was going to work out that I decided it was time to move the trailer from Dan's farm. I had my father do some research on local trailer parks and he’d found one that he thought would be suitable for Elle, I and the kids. As soon as I said “hello” to Elle we were off to see it for ourselves. It was located in the same town where my grandparents lived and I knew that would please them. We drove around the whole park and decided to go ahead. Both of us were excited with the thought of being back on our own. Elle, although she appreciated all the help her mother gave her with the kids, was ready to leave home. I was just looking forward to seeing Elle without worrying where her parents were whenever we were alone.

To be continued...

ANOTHER DOSE OF REALITY... getting better (Part 58e)

I saw a well dressed middle aged man step out of the van portion of the truck. He looked more like a trainer than a groom (caretaker). I walked up to him and introduced myself and he told he his name was Will and then walked away and over to the open stalls. My first thoughts were that he was another “Chit”, Dan’s number one groom who was also a silent type. It wouldn’t make my job any easier but I wasn’t going to let it bother me. He went back into the van and carried out a bale of straw which he carried into the first open stall. I took the lead from him and did the same. He started spreading the straw preparing the stall for the horse. I continued unloading the straw and hay but when I went to put a bale of straw into one of the other open stalls he told me to stop as it all belonged to “Steve”. I was puzzled. I asked him what I was supposed to do for the other two horses and he just shrugged his shoulders. I could see that this was going to be an interesting arrangement. Fortunately, the other two horses arrived with enough supplies for me to get them bedded down for the night.

I had “assumed” that I would be sharing the tack room at the end of the barn. When I walked into the room for the first time Will asked me what I wanted. He’d arranged all of his things, which included a small chest, a small stuffed chair and a standing lamp, in such a way that even if I had a bed there was no way to place it without him having to move some of his belongings. Without saying it he had made it clear that this was his private domain.

I hadn’t seen any races at this track in over four years and was anxious to go that night. Even though I had no place to sleep I still wanted to go. As I looked over the program I saw that Super Steve was entered for the following night which was a complete surprise. Mr S hadn't said anything about it. The very best horses raced in a class designated as “Free for All”. Because only the best of horses raced at the city tracks their classifications trended towards the higher end of the scale. The next lower class was the Junior Free for All and then went on down to A1, A2, B1, B2, B3 and C1. At the tracks where I had raced the majority of the horses stabled at the track were in the C1 to C3 level. At the city tracks the majority of horses were in the B level and the two horses I was caring for were graded B3 and C1. I was guessing but I pretty much figured that track management had “accommodated” Mr S by allowing them to race there so they could have the benefit of Super Steve in their Saturday night featured Free for All race.

By seeing “Super” entered the next night told me that Mr S would be there and we'd be able to work out the situation with Will. I chose to sleep in my car than to make a fuss. That was another surprise. Not to drag this out but the “deal” was that Will was a relative of Steve’s owner and pretty much called the “shots“ as far as what he did and didn’t do... which wasn’t much. The best advice that Mr S could give me was to have as little to do with him as possible other than training Steve and helping out in the paddock on race night. Of course that meant that night. I was excited about seeing the horse race but not excited about working with Will.

Even though I’d worked as a groom and taken hundreds of horses to the paddock on race nights it didn’t mean a thing as Will felt it necessary to instruct me on every little thing that had to be done. It was almost laughable but I held my tongue wanting to please Mr S. Steve drew an outside post (The higher number the farther from the inside rail you were. Inside positions were always an advantage.) and his big rival, Adios B drew the rail (#1) position. At the finish he beat Steve by about a foot. It was really exciting and I couldn’t wait until the next Saturday.

During the evening Mr S went over with Will and I as to how he wanted Steve trained the following Wednesday. Will stood there with a sour look on his face and I wondered what would happen when it came training day. I also got instructions on what to do with the other two horses but I knew I didn’t have to worry about being challenged when training them.

A new ”fact of life“ happened on Sunday, supposedly our day off. All we had to do was clean the stalls, curry the horses and give them a walk. However, because of the ”celebrity” status of Steve there were all sorts of visitors to see him. Will was in all his glory as he would take Steve out of his stall and parade him around. I mentioned in an earlier post that I had gotten into the “confirmation” aspect of Standard Bred horses and had felt that Dan’s horse, Goldy, although bred to be a trotter, had the confirmation of a pacer. As Will paraded Steve around I kept looking at him and, at least to my eye, there wasn’t anything outstanding about him. If he’d been in a field of 20 or so horses you wouldn’t have picked him out as being special. It reinforced to me that it was his name that got the attention.

One of the “visitors” was the trainer of the other 21 horses stabled in the same barn. He introduced himself as "Antney". It was totally obvious that he was a “city boy”. Of course his name was Anthony but from that day on he was always “Antney”. He was very personable and we hit it off from the start. We chatted for well over an hour and by the end of that time he knew my history with horses and I knew his. When I mentioned that it was my goal to drive in some races at the track he threw out a “bone” and said that if it was OK with Mr S (he called him that as well) that he could probably arrange it. THAT really caught my attention.

To be continued...

ANOTHER DOSE OF REALITY... getting better (Part 58d)

It was Wednesday morning and I had to be at the city track on Friday. My first thought was that I could be with Elle and the kids that night and all the next day if I left right away. I was really excited with that thought. There weren’t any people I really wanted to say “good bye“ to so headed for the junk yard to get the little trailer. Feeling somewhat ”flush“ with money I found the owner and tried to offer him some money for being so nice to me. He wouldn’t take it and wished me luck. I knew that if I was ever back in this part of the country I’d look him up.

It wasn’t until I had been on the road for an hour or so when it dawned on me that my house trailer was still at Dan's farm and would soon have to be moved. Luckily, the route home would bring me fairly close so headed there to pack it up for a move. I hadn't been inside for more than a few minutes when Dan's wife, Jeanne, appeared in the doorway. I quickly brought her up to date on my plans and explained that I'd get the trailer moved as soon as I got settled. She told me not to worry about it and that she'd look after it until it did get moved. She was so nice and as she walked away I wondered how she and Dan ever got connected. As I went about storing things for the move it came to me that both Elle and I would need clothes for the coming warmer weather. I didn't have any boxes so just made piles of them in the little trailer. When I was in Elle's panty drawer it reminded me that I was about 30 miles from the town where I'd purchased the Plymouth panties made with the Narcissa nylon satin tricot. I decided to try and get away from the farm in time to make it to the store before they closed. As I closed the door to the trailer Jeanne came up to me and gave me a hug. After letting me go she held me at arms length and said that she was really going to miss Elle and the girls. She'd always wanted a girl of her own and she, in her mind, had "adopted' my girls. The last thing I heard was that she was actually surprised that I'd lasted a full six months with Dan. She did have a smile on her face when she said it.

As I drove towards the town with the desired panties I realized that I'd just done the same thing in saying "yes" to Mr S that I’d done when I’d agreed to work for Dan. I didn’t ask even one soul about him. I knew nothing more than what he’d told me and that wasn’t much. I began to worry but it wasn’t for long as I knew that it was too late for that. I just had to go on and to do the best I could. I rationalized that it couldn’t be all bad what with making more money than ever before as well as achieving my goal of racing in the city.

The store was still open when I arrived. I think I startled the lady behind the counter when I walked up and asked for all the size 5 Plymouth panties she had that were made with the Narcissa nylon fabric. I was a bit disappointed that all she had was five pair. I paid for them and was back on the road in a very short time. The side trip only added about 45 minutes. With the panties in a bag on the seat beside me I was "pumped". I knew I wouldn't have any trouble staying awake for the rest of the trip as I pictured Elle wearing the panties and me "playing" with her while wearing them.

I waited until I was about two hours away from home before calling. Elle was awake and was ecstatic hearing the news that I would be located at one of the city tracks and be only an hour and a half away. However, since she was at her parents home and their bedroom was right next to hers, there wasn't any chnace for us to "play. I just kept the panties aside for a better time.

Her parents and mine combined to hold a bit of a welcome home party the next night to celebrate. I needed it by then because I had a hard time when I went to visit my grandparents, especially my grandfather. I had the check for the horse and the cash for the equipment for him but he wasn’t interested in them. The reality that he no longer owned any horses was hard for him to accept. Both he and my grandmother had failed a lot in just the past year and I wondered just how long they’d be around. It had only been a few days since he’d mailed his driver’s license back to the MVA with a letter saying he felt he was no longer fit to drive a car. He was 88 years old and was one of the first people in the country to have a license to drive a "horseless carriage". I had tears in my eyes.

On Friday I left for the track at 5am, not knowing when the horses would arrive. It was a bit too early so I had to just wait around. I’d forgotten that I had to get a state license and that was bit of a hassle. I had a typical ”city person“ wait on me and she had the patience of a firecracker with a short fuse. Finally armed with my temporary license I camped out at the barn area gate and struck up a conversation with the guard on duty. His name was Norm and because he was rather large he reminded me of Tweedle Dee or Tweedle Dum. He was very jovial and I found out that one of his brothers raced cars at a local track. When I asked his name I recognized it from having read the newspapers when I still owned a race car. We had a ”bond“ right from the beginning as we exchanged ”do you know’s”.

It was Norm who alerted me to the first delivery. It was Super Steve. After he signed the truck driver in and told him which barn to go to he turned to me and called me a lucky guy. I asked why and he gave me this funny look as he told me that Super Steve was one of the the two best horses in the country. It didn’t take hold until I was on my way to the barn. I remember wondering just what I’d done to change my luck so much.

To be continued...

ANOTHER DOSE OF REALITY... too good? (Part 58c)

I was tired, pissed off and, because my first impression of the man was rather negative, I told him that I’d rather talk in the morning. He put his ever present cigarette holder in his mouth and stuck out his hand. I shook it and watched him walk away. That was when I realized I didn’t really know who he was or what his name was. It was obvious that he had at least one horse racing that night or he wouldn’t have been wearing his racing colors. I decided that I’d get all my gear back to the barn and then return to watch the races so I could at least find out his name.

I checked the program trying to find a driver with the colors that he’d been wearing. The horse’s name was Regal’s Boy and he was the owner, trainer and driver and from Indiana. I didn’t recognize his name but at least I knew it for our meeting the next morning. I stayed to watch the race and commented to myself that he drove the horse the same way that my friend who had stood up for my wedding drove his horses. It was a strange feeling.

I was always at the track by 6am. Seeing the empty stall was rather depressing and I still had to clean up the equipment from the previous night which didn’t help. I had no desire to do so. As I started I saw a very recognizable sight approaching... Dan’s yellow and white pick-up truck. I kept on cleaning the harness without looking up. I heard Dan’s very recognizable voice but still didn’t look up. He called out again and I heard him say he’d give me $200 for the equipment. I had no idea what it was worth but with my knowledge of Dan’s negotiations I knew it was an outrageously low offer. I really wanted to continue to ignore him but he’d made me mad so I looked up and shouted "$600!!". He shot back an offer of $350. That made me madder because it reinforced the fact that his $200 offer was totally unrealistic. I shouted “$600!!" and watched as he backed the pick up away. I really didn’t want him to get it and an idea had just come to mind that I could give it to my friend Eugene and would feel good about it. I remember looking up and thinking to myself F___ Y__! only to see the truck coming back towards me. I wanted to yell at him to leave me alone but when he stopped I saw he was looking down in his lap. I watched for a few seconds and I saw a hand and arm come out of the window. I could see he was holding some cash. Letting him have the stuff would eliminate a lot of running around for me so I got up to see what he had. I could count 5 $100 bills and when I saw that I just turned away and went back to the harness I was working on. I was just about to start on it again when I heard him say two words I didn’t think was in his vocabulary... ”You win.“ I watched as he added another $100 bill to those that he was holding. I took the $600 without saying ”thank you“ but I heard him say he expected all the equipment to be clean when he came back to collect it. I was tempted to just walk away right in front of him but I couldn’t.

When I finished up I went looking for Mr S’s barn. As I remember it I was almost bouncing on the balls of my feet knowing that I’d held my own in a negotiation with Dan. I didn’t really want to know what the actual value of the equipment was because, down deep in my heart, I really knew that Dan had ”won“. After a bit of wandering I recognized his driving colors decorating a couple of equipment trunks. There was a man feeding horses and I asked him if Mr S was around. That brought forth a burst of laughter. He told me that “the man” didn’t arrive until at least 9am. That made sense and fit with my perception of the man as a "dandy". As I waited I noticed that everything was immaculate. There wasn’t anything out of place and there were no nicks or scratches on the trunks or training carts. As I thought about the way Mr S. dressed that made sense.

It was closer to 10am than 9am when he showed up. He was driving a two toned Cadillac Coupe deVille and the colors, of course, were brown and ivory. I ended up joining him in the car and was taken back when his first words were something along the lines of how well I looked after a “turn” with Dan. He had a big smile on his face when he said it so I didn’t know how to respond. Long story short... he’d noticed me on the training track with Jean Paul’s “lazy” filly and, to use some of his words, he enjoyed watching my unorthodox methods to urge her on. He made some inquiries and found that I’d recently worked for Dan whom he knew from the Grand Circuit. He asked Dan about me and was told that I was a tireless worker but a little “green”. Mr S. told me that those words, coming from Dan, was a tacit approval. I was shocked. I thought that he’d bad mouth me until the day he died.

He then told me what he had in mind. If I thought I was surprised by what he told me what Dan had said about me it was nothing compared to what he went on to say. He was shipping the two horses he had at this track to the city to join “Super Steve”. The name didn’t mean anything to me as I rarely read about races held at the city tracks. He went on as if I knew exactly who the horse was and told me that he wanted me to take care of the two horses, and he pointed to their stalls, and to train all three. I was still back at the part about going to the city when he said he’d pay me $125 a week and would get a bonus if any of the three horses won when they raced. The final touch was that there was a distinct chance that I’d get to drive in a few races. It was like I was in a dream. It couldn’t be for real, especially when it came to me. To bring me back to reality he asked if I could finish up my “business” and be at the city by Friday. The only “business” I had was to get from here to there. When I told him I could he reached into his jacket and pulled out a folio. I watched as he opened it and pulled out a $50 bill and handed it to me as “traveling money”. I was so surprised that I don’t know if I said “thank you”.

To be continued...

ANOTHER DOSE OF REALITY... what next? (Part 58b)

It would’ve been nice if I could say we got all his horses qualified. We didn’t. Only three made it. That meant he had to ship eight horses back to New Hampshire. It also meant that he could no longer afford to pay me. At about the same time my grandfather had decided to sell the one horse he had left. AJ was down to just five horses including my grandfather’s and although he felt badly about it his declining health and the fact that he’d pretty much kept his horses for the past few years for my benefit and I was no longer with AJ, there was no point in it anymore. I told him I could race it and try to find a buyer although there was no demand for 12 year old geldings. He agreed and said he’d get the horse shipped to me.

When the horse arrived I had to take his eligibility papers to the office so I could enter him in a race. While I was there I saw this strange sight. It was a short man all dressed in fancy clothes. He was wearing gabardine driving pants like most trainers do and a jacket with a leather patch on one shoulder much like what a hunter would wear. His boots looked like they were snakeskin and he was also wearing a wool cap set at a jaunty angle. He was also wearing an ascot and the cigarette he was holding was in a fancy holder. It certainly went with his pencil thin moustache. The only thing missing was a monocle. The first thing I thought of when I saw him was that he was a “dandy” from one of the books I’d read in college. I’ll admit I was smiling on the inside as I looked at him.

I’d made some inquiries about a job and all that was available was the position of a groom. Jean Paul had told me that, as far as my career was concerned, it would be best not to do it unless I was starving. So, I became a one horse trainer/driver. The first time I raced the old horse I finished 3rd. Now, 12% of $600 is $72. That didn’t even pay for his feed and horse shoeing. But I struggled on and got another 3rd. Jean Paul wasn’t even doing that well. His owner had “pulled the plug” on him and ordered him to ship all the horses back to New Hampshire so my one true friend was leaving. He asked me to train one of his horses while he made final arrangements. This particular horse was one that I was familiar with in that she was truly lazy. Jean Paul and I had taken part of a tube from a sulky tire and attached it to the end of a whip and then sliced the end of it and made like spaghetti straps. By snapping it up around her ears and screaming at her she seemed to respond. I actually felt rather foolish doing it but it was a means to an end. As I remember it I was the only one one on the track at the time. I also was able to get her to go as fast as Jean Paul had wanted. That was my last contact with Jean Paul.

This track was only open for five weeks before we had to move to another track not all that far away. I was getting a bit concerned with nothing on the horizon for me. My grandfather was sending me money for training the horse which helped. This new track had a type of race that was fairly new to harness racing... claiming races. It was where you entered your horse for a set sale price. Someone claiming a horse had to put up that money prior to the race and the horse became theirs as soon as the race was over. One good thing about those races was that the purse (money we were racing for) was higher. I’d talked with my grandfather and he agreed that $2000 was a fair price so I entered the old horse in a claiming race. The purse was $1000, or $400 more that we’d been racing for. I really didn’t think anyone would pay $2000 for a tired twelve year old racehorse. I ended up finishing second which meant $250 in purse money. As I paraded back to the paddock I was actually fantasizing what it would be like to have a few more horses and to be truly on my own. But, when I got the horse back to the paddock I was shocked to see the shit eating grin of Dan’s walking up to take the reins of the horse. He’d claimed my grandfather’s horse.

If there was anything I could’ve done to prevent him from taking the horse I would’ve done it. But, the way the process worked was that a track official was with Dan and when he took hold of the bridle the official handed me a certified check. Once back at the paddock stall I had to unhitch the horse from the sulky and take the harness and other equipment off him. The buyer got only the horse and bridle. As I did I was cursing under my breath. When I was finished Dan and one of the grooms who I had worked with walked off into the night with the horse. I remember wishing that the horse turned up lame on him in the morning. I didn’t have much time to dwell on it though as I had to get all the equipment out of the stall as it was needed by a horse in the last race of the night.

I was trying to figure out how many trips it would take to get it all back to the barn when I saw someone walking up. He was wearing brown and ivory racing silks and as I looked closely I recognized the “dandy” from a few days before. He had a smile on his face and asked if Dan had “stolen” my horse. He, of course, was being facetious but in my frame of mind I took him seriously. He laughed when I barked back a "no". He said I could call him Mr S. but my first thought was “Why?”, since he'd started the conversation. Thankfully, I didn’t say anything. He went on to ask what I was going to do now that my only horse was gone. I was thinking to myself “How does he know that?”. Before I could come up with an answer he continued on and said that he’d heard good things about me and was wondering if I’d consider taking a job with him.

To be continued...

ANOTHER DOSE OF REALITY... what now? (Part 58a)

Even though I knew it was directly against what Dan wanted for her I was still upset with how he treated me when I made the suggestion to switch her gait and want to see for myself. Of course being “egged” on by Chit only added fuel to the fire. Long story short... In spite of her front hoofs being too long and with a really heavy (horse)shoes she took right to the hopples and never stumbled once. We had her on on the gyp line (a rope connected to her bridle) and had her go around in a 25 foot circle for about 5 or so minutes. I was really pleased and Chit was smiling the whole time. We cleaned her up again and I headed back to the apartment not knowing what to do with my discovery.

Tuesday was her next scheduled training day and Dan told me he wanted to take her for all her four trips. After we had her hitched to the cart Dan came over and started doing an inspection of her legs starting with her hoofs, working his way up to her chest. Once there he stood up and screamed “Who had hopples on this horse?” There was no way I could deny it as almost all the grooms had seen Chit and I working with her on Sunday. I spoke up and before I even got the words out he screamed “YOU’RE FIRED!” with a whole stream of expletives following. I just stood there not believing what I’d just heard. When I didn’t move he charged up to me and gave me a shove. I tried to say something and all he did was to yell for me to get out of his sight. I have to admit I was a bit afraid. I was about 155 pounds and 6’ 1“ while Dan was 6’ and about 220 pounds. I remember seeing spit coming from his mouth as he continued to curse me. I finally turned and walked away. I’d driven to the track with Jean Paul so headed for his barn.

Jean Paul couldn’t believe it when I told him what had happened. He saw how upset I was and I guess he knew his words wouldn’t help so he told me to take the horse he was about to go out onto the track to train. It was more instinct than anything else as I took the reins. He told me how fast he wanted the horse to go as I jogged off to the race track. Concentrating on the job at hand took my mind, temporarily, off Dan and my firing. When I got back Jean Paul and I headed for the cook house. After a couple of cups of coffee he had suggested some ideas for me. Since we were both in the same precarious financial position he knew that income was my major concern. Since he was about to ship out to start the racing season he was going to have to hire additional help to care for the horses. (Taking care of three horses when not racing was fairly common for the lower level stables. Two horses per man was the standard when racing.) He told me he couldn’t afford an assistant trainer but he could pay me a groom’s wage and he’d work in some training for me to help him out. I know it was a reaction but I said ”yes“. I also knew it would take some of the pressure off me when I told Elle later.

In truth, I think Elle was relieved that I was done with Dan. The biggest problem we were faced with was that our trailer was still up at Dan’s farm. I knew my situation with Jean Paul was only temporary so didn’t know what to do with it. We decided that the best thing was for me to take Elle home to her parents. I loaded all the kids and Elle’s stuff into the little trailer and drove home that weekend. Our parents and my grandfather were quite upset with the situation but it was my problem and I was determined to survive. After unloading the trailer I headed back. Jean Paul was shipping out on Tuesday and I needed to be there to help.

The track didn’t have a place for trailers on the grounds. There was a run down trailer park right across from the track. The guy running it was a real hard nosed character. He wanted the same rent regardless of the size of the trailer and it was more than the rent I’d been paying for the apartment. Right next door was a junk yard. I happened to see an old race car through the fence. I was mad at the trailer park guy but seeing a race car put a smile on my face. I drove into the yard and found the car. It was very similar to my race car back at home although it was obvious that it’s racing days were over. When this guy walked up he actually startled me. He said it was his but he was no longer racing. We chatted for a while and one thing led to another. I told him about the trailer park and what they wanted for rent for my little trailer. The guy had a sort of smirk on his face as I, more or less, cussed the trailer park guy out. Then he said I could park it in his yard for free... one race car guy to another... and to stick it to the trailer park guy who I later found out was his brother in law. He was nice enough to even let me run an electric cord from his office.

I’d previously mentioned that Jean Paul’s horses weren’t very good. Out of the sixteen or so horses that we unloaded only five were ”qualified’ to race. The rest had to run qualifying races. The track had so many stall requests that they decreed that non-qualified horses only had one chance to make it and their entries had to be received by the end of the first week of racing . For Jean Paul it presented another problem. There were only a limited number of qualifying races and with 12 horses to be qualified he’d have more than one horse in a race. That’s where having me working for him helped and gave me a chance to drive in a few races, even if they were only qualifiers.

To be continued...

A CHANGE IN THE OFFING?... Hope, at least (Part 57d)

On Sunday night I made contact with Dan to let him know I’d be at the track on Monday. The conversation was short and nothing was mentioned about my grandparents or what had happened to me. Elle didn’t want me to go to work on Monday because I was so weak. It was a struggle but I made it through the morning. At lunch time I told Chit that I didn’t feel well and wouldn’t be back until the next morning. He didn’t need to be persuaded telling me that I looked “like hell warmed over”.

Dan was back on Tuesday. He felt pretty confident that the horses he was preparing for racing at the season opening were progressing well so decided to take a closer look at the two and three year olds that I was training. They were all “staked” meaning that they would be racing on the Grand Circuit (GC) if they progressed as hoped. The GC didn’t start until Memorial Day week so there was still plenty of time. One of the horses I was training was a three year old filly that Dan had high hopes for. She’d disappointed him as a two year old, not training up to expectations so Dan had turned her out to pasture hoping she’d grow some and get stronger. He’d often brag how he’d ”stolen“ her at the yearling auction. She had magnificent breeding and Dan felt that even if she didn’t make it as a race horse that she’d be worth a lot as a broodmare. However, her value would be increased if she raced and earned a ”record”. (In harness racing, a horse’s "record" is the fastest winning time over a career. The faster the better.) I had told Dan that she seemed to be “hitting the wall” as far as training times were concerned. A 2 minute 20 second mile isn’t all that fast and she had a hard time getting there. Dan didn’t believe in using a whip in training feeling that it was best used in a tight race to surprise the horse. Using it in training gave a horse the chance to get used to it, therefore not responding when it really counted. We all called her Goldy as her full name was Golden something or other. In any case, Dan elected to go the last training mile of the day with her to see for himself. It didn’t bother me in the least. I was actually looking forward to seeing her, on the track, from a different perspective. Dan was able to get her to beat the 2:20 that had been a hurdle for me but just barely. I was standing with Chit while they were on the track and I made a comment to him that I thought that she would make a better pacer than a trotter. (In harness racing there are two different gaits... trotting, where when the right front foot and leg goes forward the left rear leg and foot go forward while the left front foot and leg go backwards with the right rear leg and foot also going backwards. Pacing is the other gait and that’s where when both right legs go in the same direction the left legs go in the opposite direction. Harness horses are bred to be either a trotter or a pacer. However, a horse bred to be a trotter can be switched over to become a pacer.) I was somewhat surprised when Chit agreed with me. I stored it in the back of my mind.

Dan was disappointed and told me he wanted me to take her to the blacksmith and to have him change her front (horse) shoes, making them a few ounces heavier. He also told me to put heavier toe weights on her the next time I trained her. I made notes and scheduled her for the blacksmith before Dan left to go back to the farm. On the day I took her to get her new shoes Chit made a comment that caused me to think about my comment to him on changing her over to be a “pacer“. While at the blacksmith shop I had a conversation with him about what it would take to convert her. It sounded really easy and I left with my mind really churning.

Goldy didn’t do any better in her next training session. Dan was there and when I reported back to him he made it sound like it was my fault. I took umbrage with his comment and shot right back that I thought she would probably make a better pacer than a trotter. He was like a volcano with his response. I listened to a diatribe on why she would never become a pacer. I never said another word. In a matter of a few minutes I saw my standing with Dan go from being fairly high (based upon not being criticized or yelled at pretty much since our arrival in Ocean City) to be in the toilet. In closing he told me that if he ever wanted my opinion he’d ask for it but not to hold my breath. He pretty much told me to keep my mouth shut around him.

The rest of the week went by without incident. On Sunday, after all the horses had been cleaned up and walked, Chit came up to me and told me that Dan was just being stubborn about Goldy. He went on to say he understood why Dan didn’t want to change her over. He’d paid a pretty good price for her trotting bloodlines. If he raced her as a pacer all that would pretty much be for naught. But what really had my attention was when he said that it made more sense to race her as a pacer than to not ever get her to the racetrack as a trotter.

I had about 1/8th the experience that Dan had but in the time I had been in the business I’d learned some important things. One of them had to do with a horse’s confirmation (the size and relationship of all of the moving parts of a horse). Goldy was small and stocky and her front legs were a bit short, not good for a trotter. She just looked like a pacer to me and Chit’s comments added to my feelings. I decided I was going to be stubborn as well.

Chit and I were standing in the grassy area between barns and I suggested we get a pair of hopples (leather loops that go around a pacer's upper legs to keep them on gait) and just hang them on Goldy and have her on a ”gyp” line to see what would happen. Chit grinned and headed off to get the hopples.

To be continued...

A CHANGE IN THE OFFING?... Hope, at least (Part 57c)

The following week continued to be calm around the stable area. My birthday was on that Wednesday and Elle and Marie had a small party for me. The older kids enjoyed it as it meant ice cream, something they didn't see very much of. I'd gotten a small Polaroid camera from my grandfather at Christmas but I couldn't afford the film. My present from him was a couple of boxes of film but the tacit understanding was that I was to use it to take pictures of the kids. After Jean Paul and Marie left I started playing with the camera and Elle was playing with the kids. I experimented and took a couple. As I watched her I saw an opportunity to get a panty shot. Because we could see the result in just a minute she wanted to see what I'd taken. She wasn't overly pleased but because it was my birthday and she didn't really have a present she said I could keep it. Not satisfied, I persuaded her to let me take a more risque picture. The selling point was that no "processor" would see it. It was for my eyes only. Until now that was true.

As Jean Paul and I continued to talk the one topic that seemed to be repeated was where we hoped to end up in the business. He was happy to have the type job he had (contract trainer) because it gave him security. However, the owner was a cheapskate and that caused him to have to work extra hard. Utopia for him was to have the same type job only with an established stable. For me it was to have a job at one of the city racetracks. I knew I didn’t have the background to be a head trainer but if I could be an assistant trainer at a city track it would be a great ”add” to my resume. Early in the week Jean Paul came over to the stable and was really excited. He was good friends with another French Canadian who was racing horses at the city. He’d just talked with him and had found out that he was looking for an assistant trainer and Jean Paul wanted to know if I was interested. I couldn’t believe my ears. Of course I said "yes". I was so excited that I had a hard time focusing on the work at hand for the rest of the day.

That night I had a long talk with Elle where I pretty much “sold” her on the idea. It would mean more money and we’d be much closer to home. I knew that I didn’t have the job yet but I had this really good feeling. Jean Paul set it up for me to meet with his friend, Benoit (Ben) on Friday night in the city at the track. Then, if that went well I’d go back to the track and train some of his horses with him on Saturday. When I’d agreed to go to work for Dan I had told him that my grandparents were in ill health and that if either had a downturn that I would need to go home. Even though it was a lie I told Dan around noon that Friday. We’d pretty much finished up the training for the day and all that was left were the horses scheduled for Saturday. Dan had originally planned on heading back to the farm Friday but told me to get on my way. It was about four hours to the city which would get me there in plenty of time.

For some strange reason, I'd ended up eating breakfast at the track cook house that morning. It was about the time I was leaving the track to go to the apartment that I felt some mild cramping in my groin. When I got there Elle was gone. She’d left a note that she’d gone to the doctor with Marie. I changed my clothes and was about to leave when I had a real serious cramp. It was enough to double me over. I’d had this a few times before so decided to wait until it subsided. I ended up sitting on the toilet for a while and soon felt a bit better. Then another “wave” came over me and this time I felt nauseous. The sink was right next to the toilet so I leaned over to it and “exploded”... from both ends. From there I really don’t have much memory of the situation. I do remember having the dry heaves and lying on the floor holding onto the pedestal while in the fetal position. I also remember feeling something stick me in my arm and then being lifted into a bed.

Long story short... I had food poisoning. When Elle got home she found me on the floor of the bathroom cramping so bad that I was hardly able to breath and unable to communicate with her. She had Marie call the doctor who came over immediately and gave me a shot of a muscle relaxer. If there had a been a nearby hospital I would’ve been taken there. As it was the doctor said I could be treated right there. That night he stopped by and on Saturday made two more visits.

Jean Paul tried to get in contact with Ben but, because he was racing that night, was unavailable. On Saturday Jean Paul tried again but because he had horses to train wasn’t able to make contact. So, in a matter of 24 hours, my “dream” job was gone though no real fault of my own. On top of not feeling well physically, mentally I was feeling just as bad. As the French say “C’est la vie!”

To be continued...