Check for Horse

Check for Horse

A few days ago my email inbox contained a new message from my dad with the subject line  “Check for Horse.” I opened it immediately thinking he might say something like “I am mailing you a check for a horse, Merry Christmas.” or “I think you should check out horses and if you find one you really like, maybe Santa will help you.”

A simple three-word phrase can have so many possible meanings!

Instead, what I received was a picture of a receipt for my dad’s first horse when he was a young lad. I love watching Antiques Roadshow and I am a history teacher/nerd. I found the receipt to be a treasure–the beautiful cursive writing, the purchase price and date of the pony. I found an inflation calculating tool online and reported back to my dad that his 1946 pony was more expensive than my first horse. In 1985 I paid $1,100 for Daytona; the value of $150 dollars in 1946 was $1,800! Fancy pony.

But what is even better than my electronic artifact was the accompanying message from my dad. I asked his permission to share this as he is of a somewhat private nature and he does not like to have information about himself online lest the Tal-ee-ban (how he pronounces it) will steal his credit card info.

To—–Most beautiful of the 1st, 2nd & 3rd born

From–Codger dad

I know that I’m in the fourth quarter (but not 2-minute warning) so for the last few days I’ve been looking at old records that I had stashed away,
They do bring back lots of memories of my earlier days especially this receipt that I discovered.

I recall the day in 1946 when my dad and I went in a truck driven by Howie Schultz to a place near Ottawa, Illinois and got my lovely and only horse Queenie.
Hey she was awesome and for $150 bucks how could you go wrong.  Well as you can see it was Feb 12, 1946,  We had moved in 1944 from Morgan Street
to what is now Wing Street but then was known as Rural Route 3, Box 242, Elgin. Oh yes and the telephone was on a party line. Most of the basement
had a dirt floor. I also recall visiting the house before my parents purchased it and remember that the owners had a batch of little chicks in a box under the kitchen stove
to keep them warm.  Later the next year or two we went back and bought another black male pony  named Thunder for brother Jim.

Hugs Dad

Based on the “Check for Horse” email, this week my dad and I have had some interesting conversations about his life as a young rider. He told me that he got a trick saddle with the pony. There was no horn. One day he remembers riding in their field and the pony lay down and he jumped off. She then rolled back and forth, back and forth. He didn’t know why and said it was the only time she ever did that.

My dad also recalled during winter a neighbor of theirs would ride a big horse ahead of Queenie, smushing down the snow so he and the pony could follow in the crunchy footsteps.

Queenie and Suzy, my grandfather’s chestnut Saddlebred,  and a host of other horses lived in the 18 acres worth of pasture that was my grandparents’ property an hour west of Chicago. A beautiful creek ran through the field and that was the horses’ water source and my dad’s first pool.

Sadly, tangible aspects of this equestrian heritage were no longer around by the time I was born save for a few old bridles and a black Western saddle. But the memories can live on in the stories and slightly yellowed receipt for Queenie.