| Visionaries united by love of the horse
by Joseph P. Pons Jr.
Now, as then, it’s all about ideas, from a body of men and
women serving as board members of the Maryland Horse Breeders Association—the
first, the oldest, such organization in the country.
Then was 1929. The verdant hills and valleys of Maryland grew horsemen
like grass. Grandsons of Civil War cavalrymen, captains of commerce,
transplanted Long Islanders in unspoiled country, courtly politicians,
daring steeplechase riders. Beautiful Maryland attracted the allegiance
of such men, who shared in common a love of the horse, whether a
flat racer at Pimlico, a Hunt Cup warrior, or a Sunday-safe riding
horse. In the agrarian society of the late 1920s, these men all
thought it a good idea to pool their talents into a team.
At his desk, Louis McLane Merryman examined the original Articles
of Incorporation drafted for the Maryland Horse Breeders Association.
He put his chin in his hands, covering his muttonchop sideburns,
and was lost in thought.
Yes, to further all things to do with horses—ponies, race
horses, draft horses—a broad purpose for our association.
I’ll sign that.
Dr. J. Fred Adams thought about his stable of race horses, of crisp
spring mornings at state tracks such as Havre de Grace, the sun
banking off the Chesapeake Bay as horses worked in the breaking
day.
It’s time to band together to serve as stewards for this exciting
pastime. Think what we’ll accomplish if we work together.
Where do I sign? Janon Fisher Jr. had horses to ride. Helluva good
idea. He signed.
The Maryland Horse Breeders Association became a legal entity on
the signatures of these three men. Their first order of business?
Elect a president. Breckinridge Long stood tall among the horsemen.
Assistant Secretary of State during World War I. Gracious owner
of the Monticello estate between the towns of Bowie and Laurel.
Urbane. A born leader. First president of the MHBA. He surrounded
himself with talented board members.
H.G. (Hard Guy) Bedwell, trainer of Sir Barton, the first Triple
Crown winner (1919); Major Goss L. Stryker, a veteran of the Spanish-American
War and Harford County farm owner; Sylvester W. Labrot Sr., owner
of Holly Beach Farm near Annapolis; Edwin Warfield, the son of a
Maryland governor; Howard Bruce, Baltimore banker and owner of famed
jumper Billy Barton. The starter’s flag dropped, and the MHBA
was off and running.
A half-dozen years passed, and in 1936, Labrot’s farm manager,
Humphrey S. Finney, was elected to the board. Author of A Stud Farm
Diary, a day-to-day account of life on Labrot’s farm serialized
by The Blood-Horse in 1935 and ’36, Finney had an idea he
put before the board: Why don’t we do a monthly newsletter?
Splendid idea, Finney. Head it up. Finney pulled some newsworthy
items from his desk drawer, his “saddlebag” as he called
it, and the periodical Maryland Horse was born, weighing in at four
pages at birth. Finney’s idea would grow in time to be the
standard against which all other state breeders’ magazines
would be measured. Finney became field secretary for the MHBA and
editor of the magazine. The “office” was a second floor
bedroom in Finney’s Towson home.
World War II brought challenges to the horse world. Sons went off
to war. Racing was suspended. Necessities were scarce—metal
for horse-shoes, for example. Janon Fisher ran his horses barefoot.
After the War, Finney handed the MHBA reins to Raleigh Bur-roughs,
who intended only to serve as “interim” editor: He served
four MHBA presidents.
In May of 1961, Snowden Carter left his reporter’s job at
the Sunpapers to become editor of The Maryland Horse, and the following
year, general manager of the MHBA. He had plenty of good ideas.
Let’s give Nancy Boyce a raise for her monthly cartoons. They’re
very popular with readers. Let’s take Peter Winants up on
his offer to photograph horses for us. Winants had offered to take
pictures “on any day, free of charge.” The board loved
the idea.
In Annapolis, meanwhile, the MHBA board was pushing the biggest
idea of all: Let’s reward folks for breeding and racing in
Maryland—no other state pays you for raising race horses.
Lawyer/horseman Hal C.B. Clagett remembers it well. He argued the
merits of such subsidies, which derived from raising the takeout
on bettors. The race tracks fought the idea.
Clagett says: “Acting as one voice, the MHBA carried the message
to the legislators, who could say to themselves: ‘The people
have spoken.’”
In a state whose population was spreading to the suburbs, swallowing
farmland as it went, suddenly there was a reason to hold off developers—our
business is growing.
The pages of The Mary-land Horse told of new farms bought for
the purpose of participating in the Maryland-bred program. New stallions
arrived. Mares fol-lowed. In 1963, a Maryland mare gave birth to
a colt who would win the Kentucky Derby. A sales pavilion was built
in Timonium by a partnership of the MHBA and the Fasig-Tipton Company.
Other states looked at Mary-land, and began lobbying their legislators.
Meanwhile, Carter published the National Geo-graphic of the horse
world. Same unique page size. Same snug feel. Same great photography.
Just a smaller world—the horse world in our state. A Marylander
could travel to Kentucky, to California, to Ohio, to Louisiana.
“Man you guys put out a great magazine,” would be heard.
It was an association to be proud of.
Maryland became known for its “firsts.” First state
breeders association. First state horse magazine. First state-bred
program. When Carter retired in 1986, his legacy was secure. But
times were changing. Other states had caught up. We needed another
“first” to distinguish us. Jim McKay had an idea: Why
don’t we run a mini-Breeders’ Cup, just keep it to Maryland
horses? Chick Lang knew the value of a catchy name: How about calling
it the Maryland Million? Billy Boniface laughed at the math: We
don’t know where we’re getting the first dollar from,
so what difference does it make what we call it? With skepticism
plentiful, McKay, Boniface and Lang had come up with a novel idea
to shine the spotlight on the state’s breeding industry.
The MHBA knew its limits, and a whole new board was born—the
Maryland Million board, with a number of overlapping members. The
MHBA searched for and found the executive to wear those two hats.
Rich Wilcke succeeded Carter. Armed with a good idea, Wilcke traveled
to all corners of the state, introducing himself as well as the
plan. We need your help. You need to nominate your foals and your
stallions. That’ll raise half the funds. We’ll solicit
the other half from corporate sponsors.
The Maryland Million idea reached out to the region. Our program
appealed to breeders in other states because they didn’t have
to foal their mare away from home. You could foal her in her own
stall in Virginia or Pennsylvania or New York or Canada or Alaska,
as long as the nominated stallion stood in Maryland and you paid
the foal’s nomination fee.
A region Wilcke saw Maryland as the center of the Mid-Atlantic region.
He pushed the idea that survival meant adapting to the reality that
erosion of our stallion base and of our horse farms to development
ultimately would kill the advertising that fed The Maryland Horse.
We’ve got the best staff of any horse magazine outside Kentucky,
he felt. Let’s preempt the other states by transforming The
Maryland Horse into the Mid-Atlantic Thoroughbred. The board of
the MHBA agreed. Wilcke also recruited neighboring state breeders
organizations to publish their “newsletters” in the
Mid-Atlantic Thoroughbred, and the magazine’s roots penetrated
the soil of surrounding states.
Wilcke’s innovative mind drew national recognition, and after
contributing his talents to the MHBA for a decade, he left for greener
pastures, or bluer, when Kentucky called. Wilcke soon stood behind
a lectern at the University of Louisville, teaching master’s
candidates about the horse business. He hand-picked his successor,
Tim Capps, who drew heavily on his experience as an executive with
The Jockey Club, and as erudite editor of The Thoroughbred Record.
In an unbroken chain of talent, the MHBA had enjoyed the services
of Finney, Burroughs, Carter, Wilcke and Capps, whose first order
of business was to raise the state’s awareness of the importance
of horse breeding. In two years’ time, Capps persuaded Annapolis
that an industry that employs 17,000 Marylanders deserved special
attention, and his message brought seventeen million dollars of
state lottery funds into the Maryland horse business. Capps also
understood the power of the press, and the Baltimore Sunpapers began
covering more than just race track news. Thanks to Capps’s
relationships in the media, Sunpapers editorials and features on
the agricultural side of Maryland’s horse industry began raising
the public’s appreciation of horse farms. Legislators couldn’t
fail to notice the stories.
As slot machines whirred in Delaware and West Virginia, Capps recognized
that the once-unthinkable was now unavoidable: Maryland racing and
slot machines must intermarry. He left the MHBA to carry that message
to legislators in his new role as an executive with the Maryland
Jockey Club. In his place at the MHBA rose Cricket Goodall. A very
capable and knowledgeable administrator, Goodall steps into a stressful
period in the MHBA’s existence. But Goodall can call on the
spirits of the MHBA founders, who shrugged off the Great Depression
and soldiered on. Good ideas from talented people have carried the
Maryland Horse Breeders Association from its inception in 1929 through
this very day.
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