October 2007

Steve Haskin Remembers John Henry

John’s life was a magnificently constructed script, and all who passed his way felt part of it, whether they were watching him run or visiting him at the Kentucky Horse Park. Perhaps the most amazing aspect of John’s life is that he basically had little use for the humans who bonded with him; who came in droves to his birthday parties and other celebrations; who brought him treats and gifts; who cheered him during his daily shows; and who shed tears when he died.

John Henry was not born to greatness and did not possess the physical attributes or the bloodlines to be great. He did, however, possess something much rarer: the strength of character to will himself to be great.

For me, John came alive in every page I wrote, as if allowing me entrance into his very being. That was the only way his story could be told. I became immersed not only in the story of John Henry, but in the phenomenon of John Henry. His road to greatness was unpaved and rocky. No one had ever traveled over it, nor would they ever again.

Along the way, he became the first horse to earn $3 million, the first horse to earn $4 million, the first horse to earn $5 million, and the first horse to earn $6 million. At the age of 9, when most horses are already well into their stud careers, he was winning an Eclipse Award as Horse of the Year and being named by People magazine as one of the 25 most intriguing “people” of 1984.

John might have left scars on the outside of people, but he left something much deeper and permanent on the inside. While interviewing those closest to him in his early days, I discovered an affection and reverence for the horse that overshadowed the bitterness of being mere fragments in the monument he was to build.

I closed the book by saying, “And at the Kentucky Horse Park, just miles from where he was born, the radiant spirit that is John Henry still glows after all these years. Now age twenty six, he remains, in Bob Dylan’s words, forever young.”

Even after his death, those sentiments ring as true as they did when they were first written. A statue of John is being planned at the Horse Park. On it should be the same words that are inscribed on the statue commemorating his first Arlington Million victory: “Against all odds.” There could be no more fitting epitaph.

I know John is gone, and I know it was expected, yet it is still hard for me to believe. Despite his age, I’m sure most everyone feels the same shock as I do. That’s the way John would have wanted it.

From the time he was born, John felt compelled to fight for everything in life, whether it be with his handlers in the barn or with his opposition on the track. Was it mere coincidence that he shared the same name as the legendary blue-collar folk hero who became the subject of songs, stories, plays, and novels?

via Leigh Ann Anderson

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