Having gotten a bit stuck on the Firebird story, I've turned to a back-burner project that's been simmering for a little while---a history based on the life of Sam "Chief" Johnson. Readers of my Dream Derby: The Myth and Legend of Black Gold will probably recognize the name as that of a friend of Hanley Webb's who helped break Black Gold to the saddle and served as the colt's exercise rider for much of his career. There's a lot more to Johnson, though. Half white and half Cherokee (hence his nickname, "Chief"), Johnson was one of the most colorful characters ever seen in American racing. Active as a jockey from around 1880 up until about 1930, he rode mostly on the fair circuit and at minor Western tracks. Cat-quick, tough, and fearless, he crossed paths with any number of mavericks, rogues, and rascals, both equine and human, and was as known for his ready wit as for his riding skills. Given his long career and the wide geographical scope of his involvement with racing---he appears in records of meetings from Emeryville, California, to the Maritime Provinces of Canada and from Juarez, Mexico, to St, Paul, Minnesota---he looks like an excellent focal point for a narrative presenting the great sweep of Thoroughbred history in what moderns would call "flyover country" in the era between Reconstruction and World War II.
The problem with centering a major work around someone like Johnson is that, as history goes, he was a small fish in a huge pond. Histories and major newspapers tend to concern themselves with the big names and great events; the doings of what are considered "ordinary people" are usually passed over with little notice. Likewise, the small tracks at which Johnson plied his trade for most of his life left little trace in the record books and periodicals of the day, With luck and patience, some information can be gleaned from local newspapers that have found their way into online archives and perhaps from historical societies. Much else regarding these modest venues and their activities will have been lost to time as the last living memories of them passed away.
Recreating a world that is long gone will not be easy. Reconstructing Johnson's life may be at some points impossible. I expect that if I ever make it happen, it will take years, especially given that I will probably be interspersing work on his story in between the demands of other projects---not least the Firebird, which is a tale I certainly don't want to abandon. There are undoubtedly other horse biographies in my future as well, and I've put out some ideas before my editors; any of those could become a major focus of my attention without much notice. Still, I think Johnson's story deserves to be told, perhaps as much for all the "little people" whose lives shape an era as for the man himself. The stories of the already famous are told and retold ad nauseum; in taking up the challenge of tracing the life and times of an "ordinary" man, at least I will be taking a different path, and who knows what may lie at the end?
The problem with centering a major work around someone like Johnson is that, as history goes, he was a small fish in a huge pond. Histories and major newspapers tend to concern themselves with the big names and great events; the doings of what are considered "ordinary people" are usually passed over with little notice. Likewise, the small tracks at which Johnson plied his trade for most of his life left little trace in the record books and periodicals of the day, With luck and patience, some information can be gleaned from local newspapers that have found their way into online archives and perhaps from historical societies. Much else regarding these modest venues and their activities will have been lost to time as the last living memories of them passed away.
Recreating a world that is long gone will not be easy. Reconstructing Johnson's life may be at some points impossible. I expect that if I ever make it happen, it will take years, especially given that I will probably be interspersing work on his story in between the demands of other projects---not least the Firebird, which is a tale I certainly don't want to abandon. There are undoubtedly other horse biographies in my future as well, and I've put out some ideas before my editors; any of those could become a major focus of my attention without much notice. Still, I think Johnson's story deserves to be told, perhaps as much for all the "little people" whose lives shape an era as for the man himself. The stories of the already famous are told and retold ad nauseum; in taking up the challenge of tracing the life and times of an "ordinary" man, at least I will be taking a different path, and who knows what may lie at the end?