The Editor Is pleased to present a new feature of the VOICE, entitled " In Quest of a Blue.” it is a continuing series of stories regarding the trials and tribulations of a Professional Walking Horse Trainer named Lonny Barnes. This is fiction, and is not based on the life of any particular individual. Any similarity to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. by Charles Barry Sanderson
At twenty-eight years of age, Lonny Barnes had acquired a lot of practical experience in working with horses. His folks had moved to Middle Tennessee while he was still in high school, and they had a small farm just outside Nashville. It was here that he had become serious about the prospect of being a professional trainer, and had spent many an hour in and around the various training stables in Middle Tennessee. He had received a lot of help and encouragement from some of the top trainers, who let him work summers until his graduation from high school. The Army had taken two important years from his horse activities when he was in his early twenties, but this gave him time to mature a bit and to think things over. It was while he was in the Army, stationed at Fort Gordon, Georgia, that he met his wife, Helen. They had been married for five years and had found that the life of a family man in the horse training business is somewhat hectic. Their two sons, Lonny, Jr., four years old, and Ralphy, who was only two, were still in the " horseyhorsey” stage.
" What you want me to do with these hosses, Mista Barnes?” came a yell from Little Joe, the newly-acquired groundman at the Barnes Stables. " Just put them in the crossties and pull their tail sets off,” Lonny said, implying that he wanted to hit them a lick or two before putting them in their stalls. As
Little Joe went about the careful procedure of removing a tail set, Lonny talked to his new customer, a Mr. Larrimore, about his horses. Getting out his record-book, Lonny told him that he was the first official customer for this new corporation. He carefully showed Mr. Larrimore, who by this time was insisting that they get on a first-name basis, how each horse was entered, what he had on when he came into the stable, and any special notes that might need to be recorded. " Red,” said Lonny, " you have two pretty good-looking horses here. I especially like the three-year-old. Tell me about them.” Red went into elaborate detail to tell about their bloodlines and how he had gotten what he felt was a good deal on both of them. As they were discussing Red’ s horses, Lonny took time out to tell his painters that the stall doors were to be painted a dark green, instead of white, like the rest of the barn. He also had noticed that they had stopped working just to look over the horses that had come in. He told them that there would be a horse show every Saturday night when the season opened and that they could see all the horses they wanted at that time.
Inquiring into the background of Mr. Larrimore’ s horses, Lonny learned that they had both been in training with a trainer in Alabama. " Do you know what kind of bit he used on the black mare?” he asked. " I think it was a medium port with an eight-inch shank,” said Red, reaching for a bit on the wall that looked about right. " Try this!”
About that time the phone rang. Lonny answered, " Hello— er, ah— LONNY BARNES STABLES.” It was obvious that this was the first time that he had answered the phone for his new business. " Yes, ma’ am,” he said, " we have just opened up and are looking for horses.” A pause, then, " Two-year-olds? I sure could use a few good ones. What was that name again, please?” As he wrote he murmured, " Mrs.... C.... R.... Spindel. Yes, ma’ am, we’ ll corns pick them up.”
" How ' bout that, Red,” he said, " been in business for thirty minutes and already have four new horses. News sure does travel fast in this business!”
By this time Little Joe had the black mare bitted up and saddled. Lonny checked her over carefully to see how she was shod. " Let’ s put that little pair of chains on her, Joe, and see what she does.” Lonny was not long in finding out what she would do: nothing! She just stood there, refusing to move. Clucking to her gently, Lonny gave her both spurs to let her know that they were there. The mare started backing up, making a small attempt to rear. " Whoa, mare!” said Lonny. " You fellows painting: hold up a minute and let’ s see if that helps.” When the painters had stepped aside into the entranceway, Lonny said in a demanding voice, " COME UP, MARE!” And as he laid a four-foot crop to her side she took one giant step into a bold flatfoot walk, nodding her keen head on the first lick. " Looky here, fellers,” said Lonny. " Looks like Mr. Larrimore’ s got himself an aged mare that can-do.”
After working the three-year-old bay stallion for a few minutes, Lonny assured Mr. Larrimore that he had two pretty good horses, and told him that he was sure glad to have them at his stables for training. After getting squared away on charges and billing for the services of the Barnes Walking Horse Stables, Red Larrimore said, " We sure are glad to have you in this part of the country, Lonny. If I can ever be of any help, just let me know.” Scratching his head through a mop of jet-black hair, Lonny admitted that he was going to need all the help he could get.
At that moment Little Joe burst into the office. " Mista Lonny,” he gasped, " come quick! That stud hoss o’ yours done busted that gate and headed for town...”
( Continued Next Month)
March, 1966 21