During most of the 1970s it was a Vineyard ritual. Many of us spent Thanksgiving day with family and friends. Then Saturday came along and it was off to the horse races.
You knew you were in for a fun afternoon only if you knew how to find John and Kappy Halls’ place in West Tisbury, where the races traditionally took place. That was the spot to hang out with friends, share some bubbly, and place a friendly bet while watching the horses run.
In those days, word of mouth was the official form of local advertising. The crowds grew each year. Eventually, the secret was out and the event outgrew the location.
Cancel the race? No way. Great minds got together and in 1978 the race found a new home somewhere in the state forest. Organizers found an open field, safe enough for the horses along with plenty of parking. The approximately quarter-mile track that was created would challenge the dreams of any Vineyard jockey.
John Hall, the host of the original race, wryly commented at the time: “The old days are gone. Now we got the new days here.”
While the horses may not have been eligible for the Kentucky Derby, competition was fierce. Indeed, you could place a bet. At that time wagering was illegal in Massachusetts, but in so many ways the Vineyard was an independent kingdom in those days. The betting booth was always a hubbub of activity. Handicapping was an art, not a science. There was not a lot of local money floating around in those days, so winning a bet was more than just an ego thrill.
The 1978 race in the state forest, however, attracted the attention of the authorities, who made their presence known by making sure betting would not be permitted. The booth was no longer. But even the watchful eyes of the state police, along with a rumored plainclothesman, did not dampen anyone’s spirits. In previous years, the proceeds from the booth benefited the Nathan Mayhew Seminars. Despite the lack of an official betting booth, your keen-eyed observer noted heavy side action. The nip in the November air also brought out the finest local antifreeze.
Three horses entered in each heat, with spectators hooting and hollering, imploring their favorite horse to victory. If you were a true fan, the only thing missing was the legendary Fred Capisella calling the race over loudspeakers.
Heat number one featured the magnificent Ralph, ridden by Debbie VonMehren, winning by at least a nose. The official results were posted and handicappers silently and smoothly made their way to a nearby vehicle, where the results were diligently tallied with the mathematical precision of Scott McDowell, John Parker and Joe Hall.
Heat number two was a race for the ages as a young Alene Sibley rode a spirited gelding named Zach to victory. But the finish line was not the finish line for Zach. He put it into fifth gear and horse and rider were well on their way to Barnes Road after crossing the line.
While a missing person/horse detail was arranged to search for Zach and Alene, heat number three began. Henry Fauteaux aboard Brandy edged out Cheyenne with Christy Phillips holding the reins in closest race of the day.
Rebecca Cushman, aboard Magnus Colorado, captured the fourth heat, setting the stage for the final championship race. While preparations were taking place for the grand finale, an avid spectator whispered to me just before the race: “Zach’s gonna win it all.”
Little did I realize that this lady who had given me the inside tip was Linda Sibley. This clever tout just happened to be the jockey’s aunt and Zach’s caretaker.
“How do I know it was a sure thing? The horse told me,” she said.
Eventually, the missing Alene and Zach returned to the track and the stage was set for the grand finale.
The other three horses waited and when Zach arrived at the starting line, the flag dropped. They were off! Forget Secretariat. Forget Spectacular Bid. On this day, Alene Sibley and Zach were not to be denied.
The victorious Ms. Sibley recently shared her memories of race day: “I was just 13 years old and it was my first race ever. That’s right, Zach never stopped running until we reached Barnes Road. It took a while to walk back, but thankfully everyone was patient. When it was time for the final race, my friend Stuart Wright walked the prancing Zach to the starting line, and as soon as he got to the starting line the flag dropped and the race began. This horse understood a starting line and a crowd. I mean he surged. That horse just knew how to run. Tears ran streaming down from my eyes. We continued on after the race and it got really wild. Zach ran between two cars, slipped in a mud puddle, lost his footing and we hit the ground together. Yes, I was a muddy mess. Walking back the joy I felt was indescribable. My whole family was there, and we were able to experience this time together.”
Alene continued: “Any idea that I may have had control of this destiny, at any point would be a myth. I was simply graced to have remained on his back between the two lines.”
After the final race, everyone made their way back to cars and trucks to continue their holiday festivities. The Thanksgiving horse race on the Vineyard, locally owned and operated. I remember it well.
Ken Goldberg lives in Edgartown.
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