My career reporting field trials is over with the discontinuance of the Florida Open All-Age Championship following Ted Baker’s death. I was honored to report it from 1995 through 2022. Over those years I reported many others, including the Continental Derby and All-Age Championships, the National Open Free-For-All and National Derby Championships, the National Amateur Free-For-All Championship, the Lee County trial, and, most memorably, the Quail Championship Invitational at Paducah from 1996 through 2006.
My reporting career, begun at age 57, was most rewarding, especially in friendships gained and lessons learned. Watching the best pointing dogs compete was for me like watching grand opera or ballet for a classical music or dance fan would have been.
The judges, sponsors, stakes managers, marshals and competing handlers and scouts I rode with were master professors of the field trial sport. Many became dear friends. notably Luke Weaver, John Russell, Judge Lee West, Hoyt Henley, Bubba Moreland and his father Big George, and the Suwannee River Boys, Ted Baker, T. Jack Robinson, Tom Kennard, Howard Brooks, Skip Griffin, and John Milton.
Watching pro trainer-handlers was particularly intriguing for me. Their calling is difficult and financially risky, pursued not for the prospect of riches but for the love of the game, the pursuit of perfection for its own sake.
Reporting fueled in me a love of story telling, and the drama of field trials and their intriguing characters still provide fertile ground for stories.
The biggest hazard in reporting far and wide was my mounts, mostly by necessity borrowed and often strangers to me. My advancing age increased the hazard yearly, finally convincing me to stop riding. That left only the Florida which I could report from atop the dog truck.
My experiences with borrowed mounts left me with deep appreciation for safe and smooth field trial horses, and deep fear of unsafe ones, with which I had too frequent encounters. At Chinquapin I was never put aboard an unsafe mount in twenty seven years. A guest horse named Leonard (named for beloved wrangler Leonard Craig) bore me uncomplaining many years. At the Invitational, Gary Lester provided me with his daughter’s horse several years, a jewel. John Russell provided his big buckskin Scooter, a strong safe steed. The best were Luke Weaver’s Cochise and Pete, Walking-Draft Horse crosses that were smooth, safe and strong, truly bomb-proof.
The not-so-great mounts provided some humorous experiences in hindsight, but far from humorous in real time. At Sedgefields (west) my regular mount tired due to heat and being out of shape and was replaced by Snake, a tall smooth gelding that had been Charles Morton’s handling horse. I told young William Morton, marshaling, “this is a Cadillac ride.” Charles replied, “Got a lot of miles on him.”
As a finals brace neared its end, call of point was heard far ahead and judges and gallery cantered to see it. Snake responded, then lost his footing in front and tossed me over his head. I landed on mine, but fortunately in soft mud. I was for a moment unable to move but came around soon, none the worse for wear. I completed my assignment from Jimmy Hinton’s Jeep.
At Hoyt Henley’s Montgomery trial held on Prather Robinson’s old training grounds I was put on a young gelding when my regular steed tired in heat. I had borrowed a spur from Hoyt and while mounting its sharp end accidentally touched the young horse’s flank with predictable results. I was promptly tossed and for a brace rode the dog truck. Luke Weaver was with me and teased me about it forever.
My last dishonorable dismount came at Paducah and offered several lessons in what not to do. I had started with a very rough mount which tired and was retired. A replacement was provided, a horse I had ridden satisfactorily a previous year. It was out of shape and soon became restive. I covered a long unproductive and when it ended Robin Gates lit out to regain the front. My mount followed and promptly ran away with me. I came off and hit the ground hard and was addled. Ray Warren drove me to a Paducah hospital where a mild concussion was detected. A sign was erected on the course declaring “ Tom Word’s Oak.” Soon after, I ceased riding.
Howard Wood, itinerant farrier, and an expert on horsemanship, saw me at Chinquapin next year and inquired of my health. I replied, fine. Then Howard said something that had been on his mind a long time.
“Tom, you just do not look right on a horse.”
That remark both crushed and amused me. I had always longed to look good on a horse. But I knew Howard was right.
Great story Tom.
I am now 77 and have reported for many years and could share a few similar stories.
I am amazed at how a few older pros and amateur handlers are still riding horses.
Not me. I’ll still ride but only if the handlers are on foot!