My Dad The Jockey – 

Boyd C. Wilson had been a jockey for LD Stewart.

The Race Track – Done Athletic Field:  Ralph Done gave land for the athletic fields which included the horse track and stables, a baseball field, a football field, and a quarter mile foot track.  Evidently the horse track was one of the best in the country.  Dad said the track was dug out and  a 6 foot layer of sand put in to make it well drained and really fast. The track at first was in great shape but soon people wanted to put other things in the area.  Rumor has it when the new baseball field was put in Dr. L.D. Stewart was upset.  Then when someone parked a car on the track he became livid and plowed up the baseball field himself.  No one was allowed on the track but the horses and tractors to harrow up the track for the races.  After Dr. Stewart passed on things changed.  Stock cars came to town.  Stock car races were really exciting and the excitement lasted for more than a minute or two.  Stock cars went through the fences leaving holes and problems for the horse trainers.  There was almost open warfare between the horse racers and the stock car racers. Dad would say “Old Dr. Stewart must be turning over in his grave”. 

This joint ownership of the track led to a decline in the railings and some interesting problems for our family.  Dad was entering Buster and Ginger in the saddle races.  One evening Dad was very much upset because Ginger had not been able to hit her stride in racing.  We went to the track and Dad was going to race Ginger against Ed Balzy's horse and if she did not run he wouldn't run her in the next saddle race.  Ginger was a slow starter but when she got her big body moving she was unbeatable.  Her race was ¾ of a mile.  Ginger must have realized how important this practice was because she left Ed and horse in the dust.  I was so excited she really broke well and was running in those long strides.  She was moving maybe as fast as she ever ran.  Then something happened all I could see was Ginger went sideways and Dad was somersaulting down the track.  Head over heels and then the second horse ran right over Dad.  Buster and I rode around the track quickly to see what happened to Dad.  He was up and walking and looked OK.  He was covered with sand from head to toe.  But I knew that he would live when he broke into a big smile and bust out laughing.  I told him that he should ride Buster around the track.  There was a car there that he chose to ride in.  I reminded him that he had told me if I was thrown from a horse that I should get back on and ride.  He said that he hurt too much for that. The next day he could not get out of bed he was so stiff.

 He had caught the rail with his stirrup. The rails were not aligned  perfectly and there was a two inch ledge where the stirrup caught the rail ripping a six foot piece from the rail.  This rail was just at the proper level for Dads foot to catch this piece of rail.  The force of the horse and rider had ripped the stirrup from the saddle turning Ginger sideways.  With out the left stirrup, the sudden slowing of the horse had catapulted Dad from the horse.  Dad made two good somersaults and Ginger kept running and by some miracle was not pulled into the rail which could have hurt her seriously.  Dad had sailed to the outside and when he looked up Ed and horse were right on top of him.  Dad said that he prayed that Ed would not try and stop.  If he had tried to stop the horse would have hurt Dad, possibly seriously. Ed could not figure out what was happening and his horse jumped over Dad.  Good jockeys know that if you turn the horse loose it will not step on a fallen jockey if it is at all possible.  The test was over, the mare could run, and the jockey could not ride.  Dad had someone else ride Ginger in the next race.  I feel that this arose because the rails knocked out by the cars had not been repaired very well.  One would not think that having the rails not align perfectly could lead to such a dangerous event.  We speculated that a lighter horse could have been pulled into the rail causing much more damage to horse and rider.  If Ginger had not been at top speed she could have been hurt also.  

This disrepair of the track caused problems on another occasion leading to one of my greatest moments.  Dad was working Buster on the track and for some reason Buster decided to go home, running through the hole created by a stock car in the track at the North end (homeward side) of the track.  Dad was fighting him and he ran into the end of a two by eight  leaving a distinct 2x8 mark on his chest.  This must have hurt the horse but it made Dad mad.  The next trip to the track he had Ginger and I run on the outside with the instructions that if Buster started wide I was to use Ginger to hold Buster in. We started at the quarter mile mark and started them out.  This was the first and last time that I ever rode Ginger and Dad rode Buster in a race situation.  We were neck in neck as we started into the turn and Buster started to float wide and we hit.  Ginger held her own and we were off and racing. This was a grudge race and I could feel that Ginger was upset at the collision.  She was holding her own on the turn and as we straightened out.  Ginger would take great huge strides and with each stride she would take the lead and then Buster would take the lead between her lunges.  It seemed like this was the perfect matched race.  Dad had always claimed that Ginger couldn't hold a candle to Buster but here we were neck and neck for the whole race. That day Ginger more than stayed with Buster, she pulled away and beat him.  This was the most excitement that I had ever experienced.  Mom and I were vindicated; Ginger was better on this one day and for Buster's distance.  I had beaten the Jockey on his favorite horse, or had I.  There is no question who won but did Dad let me win?  I will never know, because I never dared ask.  I don't think that the Jockey would ever let anyone win but he just might let his son win one.  Mom and I had always maintained that with Dad on Buster and other riders on Ginger that Buster could win, but if the Jockey would ride Ginger she would win.  Dad never did ride Ginger against Buster.  So Mom and I maintained that Ginger had beaten Buster, and I had beaten the Jockey even if he let me win.