With the first weekend of May (and Cinco De Mayo) rapidly approaching, today’s not a great time to me to concentrate enough to write a heavy “message” feature. Or inspire you to join a movement, sign a petition, or, “act now before it’s to late to stop (your favorite animal, mineral, vegetable nemesis here)”.
That was last weekend. And after the drama that turned out to be all talk and not much action at last week’s NRA Annual Meetings & Exhibits, I’m looking forward to a calm weekend at home.
Besides, as a Kentucky native, this is a very special weekend for me. The first weekend in May is Kentucky Derby Weekend.
If you’re a bluegrass native, grew up walking, grooming and cleaning up after and loving horses, you know you have to be careful where you are when the first strains of “My Old Kentucky Home” start to play.
I haven’t been to the Derby in decades, but every time that song starts, the memories flood back, and my eyes water.
In 1973, I worked my first Derby as a “stringer" photographer for the Louisville Courier-Journal, as a college student. Stringers, especially college students, weren’t given the hot spots (celebrities before the race and key positions along the track during the race).
Pre-race, stringers were assigned the barns. There, backstretch characters gathered and helped care for the horses. I felt right at home. During the races, we were banished to to the infield. For a 21-year old photographer who’d narrowly missed out on the sixties, it was an eye-opening experience.
The official attendance numbers said 134,471 attended the race. An estimated 70,000 were in the infield - a record that stood until 1974. But as much as I photographing the partying, I loved the racing more.
And as the horses answered the call to the post, I started worming closer to the track.
From my position between the final furlong and the finish line, I saw history made as jockey Run Turcotte and Secretariat out dueled second-place finisher Sham and jockey Laffit Pincay, Jr. to win the fastest Derby ever run- 1:59 2/5. I was so excited at what I was seeing, I realized as the field thundered past me I’d neglected to pickup my camera and take pictures.
Fortunately, I wasn’t supposed to be shooting the horses, just the partiers. Turns out what I saw was more impactful than anything I could have photographed. It was the coming-out party of a legend.
Secretariat ran every quarter mile of the race faster than the previous, finishing the last quarter-mile in 23 seconds flat. It was the sign of things to come.
When his career ended, Secretariat was named one of the ten top athletes of the 20th century. After I graduated, I was hired as a photographer/ copy manager for Inside Kentucky Sports magazine. Because of that, my path crossed Secretariat’s several times. Photo shoots frequently took me to Claiborne Farm where he lived until his death on October 4, 1989.
In 1974, I didn’t expect to be credentialed. Churchill Downs was swamped with media requests from around the world - and it was the one-hundredth anniversary to boot.
The popularity of Secretariat’s 1973 winner - and his subsequently running away with the first Triple Crown title in more than two decades- put horse racing back on the sports map. It was a hot ticket.
Churchill Downs received thousands of additional media requests.Somehow, I wound up on the approved media list. Once again relegated to the barns and the infield, I made myself a promise: 1974 would be different. Instead of standing watching the race, I would photograph people watching the race.
As Angel Cordero, Jr. rode Cannonade across the finish line, I spun around (yes, I was watching the race) and took quick shots of the mobs of college students cheering at a race they couldn’t begin to see through the mobs of fellow partiers. One of those shots actually made it into the Derby special edition the next day.
In 1974, I had no idea that the now-treasured press credential would be my last from the Kentucky Derby. At that time, all I had was a pocket full of dreams.
Today, I find myself with something equally valuable -a mind full of great memories.
Get out there this weekend and make some memories.
—Jim Shepherd