“Not a sound from the dogs?”
“They came in the back way Bill…got the drop on Eddie…definitely an inside job…they knew their way around this place and they knew the horse.”
“I’d like to go to the hospital, Graham?”
“No problem Bill, I’d guess we will be here the rest of the day but I would appreciate it if you could call the security and have them begin the research on the former employees and the breach of the technology.”
“Ok Graham, I should be back soon…just check with Betty should you need anything…and thanks again for all your help and insight.”
“Try not to worry Bill, we will get these guys and Hunter.”
“At the moment I am most concerned for Eddie who is fighting for his life.”
I was worried about Eddie as well, it would be hard for this team of crooks to hide a twelve hundred fifty-pound horse, but Eddie had been beaten severely, no doubt he fought to protect the horse, refusing to let them into the stall of Hunter’s Destiny. Eddie was no stranger to horse farm security. He had been around through the investigation of the Alydar fiasco. He remembered how the big horse at Calumet Farms had ostensibly been able to kick a hole between the door and the frame, wedging his hind leg between them…a major steel door and frame. This great horse and stallion was supposed to have kicked a hole, jamming his leg and breaking it…and the explanation was that he was able to do so because of his temperament…baloney!
All security guards at all the farms in Kentucky had debated that one for years after the event. Everyone was certain there was foul play to enable the collection of the mortality insurance on Alydar which was for twenty-five million dollars. But Eddie wonder aloud, at the time, to anyone who was within ear-shot about the evil mind which could have conjured such an evil act against a great horse who had done nothing wrong throughout his entire life. And, at the time of his death, Alydar had a full book of mares, collecting a cool one-hundred-twenty-five-thousand-dollars per cover working out to around two point five million per season.
What a sad day for the equine industry in general and all horse lovers in particular. This gallant animal who had battled the outstanding horse, Affirmed in all the triple crown events, only to come up short by less than a combined half-length will be remembered in many years to come by the strength of his progeny, manifested in his come from behind style, winning at different distances and on various surfaces.
And the inside racing community will never forget the “outsider” a person who catered parties for a living was able to gain access to one of the daughters and marry into the hundred-year-old legacy of this family. How was this guy able to marry into a family and gain control of a debt free farm and within five years, bankrupt one of the most successful farms in the history of the American thoroughbred and kill the great Alydar for the money?
************
(The following story printed by The Blood Horse Magazine is reproduced by permission with the hope that all will know the true story of the tragic death of the great race horse and stallion Alydar.)
THE ACCIDENT?
My phone rang at 10:15 p.m., moments after my head had hit the pillow. This is not unusual in my line of work, but still not particularly welcome. On this particular evening, Nov. 13, 1990, I had just completed a shift in my church kitchen where I’d received a new appreciation for those folks who make their living operating a commercial dishwasher. On the phone was a panicked Kathy Jones, sister of Calumet Farm president J.T. Lundy. In short-word bursts I heard, “Alydar has broken his leg. Come to the farm quick.”
I was not the adjuster for Calumet claims at that time, having had a falling out with J.T. Lundy years earlier over another claim. Kathy had changed to another adjuster, which was her privilege, so I was surprised to hear from her about Alydar. I asked no questions, dressed, and immediately went to the farm. A staff member met me at the big, red-painted iron gates protecting the farm, and I drove past members of the news media who were already gathering at the front entrance.
During those next few days the only reporter that J.T. would talk to was Kenny Rice.
Arriving at the stallion barn located in the same building as the farm office, I found a small crowd, and you could literally feel the tension of everyone there. In the bookWild RideI was described as going in with tape recorder in hand and “marching into the scene.” Actually, I did not have a recorder with me that night, but this is one of only a few errors made by the author, Ann Hagedorn Auerbach. Her book is, without question, the most complete piece written about Alydar and the demise of Calumet Farm.
After making a mental note of those present, the first thing I noticed was a large piece of red metal laying in the middle of the pristine red floor of the stallion barn. To no one in particular I asked,
“What in the hell is that?” Someone, and I never learned who, said, “Oh, that is where he kicked the stall door.” Lundy was there along with Jones; several farm people; Dr. William Baker; and farm resident vet Dr. Linda Rhodes.
When the subject of euthanasia came up, J.T. Lundy told Dr.
Baker, “But this is Alydar; we have to do something.”
The stall door was open and the 15-year-old stallion Alydar was standing with his rear to the door. He was being held by Alton Stone, the night watchman. The horse was obviously favoring his right hind leg, unable to place weight on that foot. Only a slight amount of blood was visible on the straw. Dr. Baker described the injury as a very serious fracture of the cannon bone, which was beginning to protrude from the skin. The cannon bone can be compared to the shin bone on a person, and Alydar’s was now becoming a compound fracture. Under ordinary circumstances, the vet would have probably already called for euthanasia due to possible lack of blood circulation and early infection.
Lundy appeared to be in shock. He had an anxious look on his face and paced restlessly around the barn, mumbling to himself as though this could not be happening. When the subject of euthanasia came up, he told Dr. Baker, “But this is Alydar; we have to do something.” Lundy then put in a phone call to Dr. Larry Bramlage, with Dr. Baker and I concurring. I could only hear one side of the telephone conversation, but it was obvious that Dr. Bramlage wasn’t offering much hope after listening to both Dr. Baker and Lundy. He did, however, agree to come to the farm and examine the horse.
Dr. Bramlage, a world-renowned surgeon from Rood & Riddle Equine Hospital, arrived very shortly thereafter at about 11:00 p.m., less than an hour after I had first gotten the word. He confirmed the horse had a mid-shaft transverse (crossways) fracture of the cannon bone in the right hind leg. The possibility of surgery was first thought to be hopeless. There was some talk about the possibility of a prosthesis, but this was quickly ruled out. After some discussion among the three vets it was decided to medicate the horse heavily for the night and then make an evaluation the next morning. A simple splint was made and covered with a temporary fiberglass cast. At that point Alydar laid down and for the remainder of the night his head was literally held by Dr. Rhodes and Sandy Hatfield, the farm’s broodmare manager. The pain-killing medication was to be stopped at 4:30 a.m. and everyone was to meet back at the farm at seven the next morning.
At the time of the injury there was great debate in the media and the public as to just exactly how the injury had occurred. Both vets who first arrived at the scene described the injury occurring as a result of Alydar’s “kicking the stall door.” Dr. Bramlage provided a two-page, single-spaced letter describing his efforts to save the horse and offering no dispute as to how the injury had occurred. Visual observation and numerous photographs described Alydar as kicking the bottom portion of his stall door, breaking off a metal rail guide for the sliding door. This allowed the door frame itself to protrude outwards, and while kicking the door Alydar’s right hind foot had become entangled.