Today is Dad’s birthday, and even though he’s been gone for almost 24 years, this date always reminds me of him.
Dad was a taciturn man. I rarely had a real conversation with him. Most of our communication took place through Mother. But even so, I never doubted his love for me or his interest in my life.
Horses were Dad’s passion. He raised and trained Standardbred horses. Trotters and pacers. I grew up thumbing through Dad’s collection of USTA Sires and Dams and his Horseman magazines. Not your usual reading for most preteen girls!
I don’t have a decent photo of Dad driving in a race, at least not one that’s been digitized, but here’s a winner photo of one of my brothers who followed in Dad’s footsteps.
That’s Dad holding the horse’s head, with one of my nephews beside him (he was acting as a groom for Dad that summer). My brother, the driver, is behind the sulky in his racing colors, orange and white. Dad’s colors were maroon and white.
This particular photo was taken at Buffalo Raceway, a paramutual track in upstate NY, but I spent many a childhood summer going from county fair to state fair throughout the Midwest as Dad raced the horses he’d been training that year. I didn’t learn to ride until I was an adult… Dad’s horses weren’t for riding… but I’ve always loved horses, and I always will.
I’ll leave you with a picture of another of my brothers who inherited Dad’s love of horses. He also trained and drove… and even bred… a goodly number of Standardbred horses. The Force of the Horse is strong in our family!
Thanks, Dad.
