Like so many, I was an unapologetic A.P. Indy “groupie” and this is my recount of meeting him in June of 2015.
This post is dedicated to the Farish family, Asa Haley and to the staff of Lane’s End, who knew and loved him.
It was early summer and my very first visit to Kentucky. Liz Read and I were privileged to be welcomed at Lane’s End (LE) and given a private tour by Louise Hatfield, the Executive Assistant to Farm Manager, Mike Cline. When asked if we wanted to see the stallions, our response was an enthusiastic “Yes, please!” And when Louise asked who I most wanted to see, I said something like, “Everyone. But especially A.P. Indy.”
“PONY!” I exclaimed, trying to hold back my tears. “Here you are. I’ve loved you forever.” Copyright protected. Used by permission of Liz Read.
As VAULT readers know, I love thoroughbreds and that includes several that are long-gone, like Man O’ War and Equipoise. So I thought I’d be prepared to see “A.P.” as the folks at Lane’s End call him.
Into the stable we went, pausing briefly to visit with Kingmambo and fellow Canadian, Langfuhr, both legendary in my personal lexicon. Their stalls, in glowing red woods with brass fittings, were luxuriant, with straw bedding as deep as a valley.
But when we approached A.P.’s stall, it was empty. My heart sank a tad, even though I knew he was “in the house” somewhere.
The stable where A.P. had his stall was breathtaking in its elegance. Copyright protected. Used with permission from Liz Read.
Louise touched my sleeve, motioning towards the other end of the stable, where a horse and groom were on their way out into the sunshine: “There’s A.P. — he goes out to his paddock around now.”
I noted the white hind leg and swallowed hard. Waves of feeling started to gather inside me.
“There’s A.P.” Copyright protected. Used with permission from Liz Read.
It’s one thing to follow a thoroughbred you care about from afar, but quite another to find them waltzing into the sunlight, right in front of you. Before this moment, I’d never seen a thoroughbred I adored before. As I’ve written about in previous posts, it was largely a case of turning away from a passion — when I was a young woman in my twenties, I believed for some reason that I needed to put away “the loves of my girlhood.”
But as I approached middle life, the passion returned and I was open to receive it. So this moment when I first stood within a few feet of A.P. Indy was overwhelming.
I assumed that we were going to follow him to his paddock and visit with him there. But instead, his groom attendant, Antonio Villalobo, stopped, waiting for us to arrive. In a flash, I understood that I was actually going to meet my idol, face-to-face.
Predictably, as I walked toward A.P., I had what my friend, photographer and artist, Liz Read, has since described as ” a complete meltdown.” Translated, Liz noted that my eyes were filled with tears and that I was completely overcome with feeling.
Lane’s End (LE) is staffed by people who truly love what they do. And that was evident from the expression of Louise, Stallion Manager Billy Sellers and Antonio: Liz observed that they greeted my short “walk to fame” with an exchange of delighted smiles. The kind of smile that people share when they see that you feel the same way as they do about a treasure.
“PONY!” I exclaimed, trying to hold back my tears. “Here you are. I’ve loved you forever.” Copyright protected. Used with permission from Liz Read.
Louise and Antonio share in my delight at finding myself a few feet away from the great A.P. INDY. Copyright protected. Used with permission from Liz Read.
As I drew closer, A.P. watched me out of the corner of one eye. It was a kind, relaxed eye. Gleaming in the light, he waited patiently for me to come closer while I struggled to fully comprehend what was actually happening. Of course, I was equipped with LE peppermints, and Louise had assured me that “A.P. does love his mints.”
“A.P. does love his mints” Copyright protected. Used with permission from Liz Read.
Having been around horses as a youngster, I had learned that you don’t just rush up to them when they don’t know you and pat their noses. Horses tolerate that, but they don’t like it. So, with Louise close by and Antonio at his head, I chatted with A.P. and then proffered the much-adored peppermints. As he crunched away — slowly, savouring the taste — he would pause and raise his head to ponder me.
I don’t know how long we stood there before I actually placed my hand on his proud head.
And then A.P. started to express himself. This doesn’t always happen when a horse meets a stranger. Some horses, sweet as they may be, keep a kind of distance. But when a horse does talk to you, it’s an utterance that awakens that part of your senses that go down deep, to a place where you intuit and receive meaning and feeling without making a sound. With A.P., communication was punctuated by his making eye contact for long moments with ears pricked, and drawing his head ever closer to me.
A.P., Louise, Antonio and I were wrapped in a palpable, living silence — a place where A.P.’s voice could be heard. Within that silence, I understood when to touch, when to kiss — and when to provide an additional mint — always following A.P.’s lead.
First touches shared with Louise, who A.P. knows very well. Copyright protected. Used with permission from Liz Read.
“…He smelled of sunshine and honey.” Photo protected by copyright. Used with permission from Liz Read.
I could feel his warmth right down in my solar plexus and I knew I wanted to kiss him. And so I did. He smelled of sunshine and honey.
The trust with which A.P. greeted a total stranger’s lingering kiss spoke volumes about his relationships with those at LE who knew him best, as well as what he had come to understand from them about deep, abiding and respectful love.
A.P. surrounded by love. Photo is copyright protected. Used with permission from Liz Read.
Finally, it was time for A.P. to enjoy a romp in his paddock and off he went with Antonio, Liz Read and her camera in hot pursuit. I remained outside the barn with Louise. Together we watched him prance at the gate. Once released, he was off.
Louise turned to Billy Sellers, “Just look at him. He looks like a colt.”
Turned loose in his paddock, A.P. was gone in a flash. Copyright protected. Used with permission from Liz Read.
Photo protected by copyright. Used with permission from Liz Read
Photo protected by copyright. Used with permission from Liz Read.
This photo was such a hit with Lane’s End that it appeared on their FB page and in the TDN (below). Photo protected by copyright. Used with permission from Liz Read.
Even though our time together was over, I never felt that it was gone. What I did feel was the absolute privilege of spending some time with A.P. in a manner that felt natural and unhurried.
Today, five years later, and forty-eight hours after I received the news of his passing, these rememories are framed by the scent of sunshine and honey, in a quiet that affirms a love that has no end.
A.P.’s stall at Lane’s End. Photo protected by copyright. Used with permission from Liz Read.
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