Great Big Gray Horse

My first real memory of a horse, although it was stuffed was at 5 years old. Our family drove up to the Wisconsin Dells for our summer vacation. My mother, Jean put me up on a great big gray horse and dressed me up like a little cowboy. Boy, I was a happy little kid. But, days later when I found out that it was once a real horse and not a fake, I was devastated.....

My first real memory of a racetrack was years later when driving pass Maywood Park. I asked my dad what that was..."It's a racetrack, only bad people go there". Why would he say that? After my dad passed away, I found out that he was a real small time bookie. He ran book out of his Chicago Tribune newspaper stand on the Northwest side. Ma said he told me that story to keep me from ever going there. It didn't work. Nothing would.


"This race isn't over, please hold all tickets"


More to follow.....