The summer of 1945. The tale of a Wunderkind Horse

( I am not sure that this wasn't 44, but time will tell. )

When the family moved to Kirkwood, MO. I missed my horses. I know they weren't mine, but I treated them as if they were. So as soon as could, I began looking for them with out much luck, but after school started, I met a girl who shared my love of animals, horses in particular, Jan DeStabler, Her dad was the vice president of Lambert Chemical. They had a full acre yard, with a three-pole fence around it. The house was in the very center of the lot, and there was a one-stall barn off to south side, but no horse. Jen told me there would be one soon, because earlier that summer, her dad had met the owner of the Running Horse Ranch, down in New Mexico. During the conversation, her dad had mentioned how sick she had recently been with Ungulent Fever, but she was now recovering. The rancher must have liked Mr. DeStabler, because he said that she should look for the arrival of a horse for her about the first of September, and we were all looking forward to that date.

One Saturday, early in September, I got an early morning call from her, the horse had arrives that night, and was in a stake sided boxcar, down at the rail yard. My father dropped me off at her house, and her mother drove us to the station. There, the stationmaster pointed out the boxcar and unlocked it. It was right up against a platform and ramp so that we could walk him right out. We all went in ad there was this tiny, barely weaned golden male colt. He was so worn out from the three-day train ride that he couldn't even stand up. We tried for a few times. When I thought I could lift him. I did, and put him over my neck with all his legs in front where I could hold him, and we started the 2mile hike to his new home. We made it without stopping. I laid him on the fresh straw, got him some water which he sure needed, he was dehydrated. We sat with him, patting and talking softly, and pulled out the tangles in his mane and tail, which were both snow white. This was some beautiful animal after some sandwiches and soda, Mrs. DeStabler offered to drive me home. It was only one road east, and 3 blocks north so I thanked her and said I would walk later.

The next morning, I went over there right after breakfast, and he was on his feet, looking much improved. I asked Jan what his name was going to be, and she showed me his papers. He was registered Palomino stallion #5 and he was registered as Don Poncho El Diablo. I didn't comment, but I wondered what had happened to his balls, but then, I had never had the opportunity to associate with a stallion before. I went into his stall and put him on my shoulders, brought him out, so the stall could be cleaned.

Every day, after school, I would stop on my way home from school, and pick him up. It became the thing to do, and I think we both looked forward to it. This continued for 2/1/2 years, and Poncho was full grown by then. And there was a side effect. All the girls wanted to see me do it, and no one, I mean, no one ever wanted to pick a fight with me. Even during the racial strife, all colors were my friends. I did get very strong after all; Poncho was growing like a horse, a few pounds every day. As I continued to develop these muscles, I could crack walnuts in my elbows, and snap leather belts with my chest expansion, and chin myself sideways on the stop sign pole.

It wasn't long before it was time to start training Poncho. He had already learned to come to my whistle. We started to get him used to a saddle on his back, no girth though. Soon, we replaced the halter for a snaffle bit. And with the reins on the saddle horn, and with a lead line, we sent around in circles. After a while, we began to tighten the girth. When he was used to that, he was ready for a rider. We started with a 50 lb. feed sack in the saddle, and soon two sacks. I soon began putting my weight in the stirrup. Now there was nothing left to train him. Poncho was ready for a ride.

The next day was a Saturday, was to be the big day, I saddled him up and we made our grand entry. I offered the first ride to Jan, but she refused, Then Mrs. DeStabler came forward. May I have the pleasure? And up she went. Poncho was the perfect gentleman, I was so proud of him. He just waited until she started him off. From then on, every day after school, I lifted him, saddled him, and rode him around the neighborhood, and on the weekend, he was bathed, something Poncho loved. We were quite a sight; I wore a bright red wool lumberjack shirt, or more like a coat with blue jeans and a tan cowboy hat. Contrasted against Poncho's gold and white, with a silver mounted Monterey saddle. We made a picture

One cold and snowy Saturday, I took Poncho for a long trail ride, There wasn't a cloud in the sky, and we were crossing a large field, when a pilot in a fighter spotted us. Using us as a target, he made several mock strafing runs, much to my delight, he passed so close over head that I could feel the prop wash, and was glad I had my chin strap on. Poncho just hunkered down, but on the third pass, he bolted and ran like his life depended on it. He soon was under control, but not until we had a good gallop. I walked him back to town and he cooled off from the heavy sweat that covered him after the run. As I came back to the barn, Jan came out to pat Poncho, when suddenly she covered her mouth in shock, pointed down and aft, and said, Skip, What's that? Oh, I said, I wondered where poncho was keeping them! She replied, Oh is that what that is? Don't worry, Every thing is fine now.