The Horse

Long before cell phones, Nintendo’s, and the Internet, we children had to find ways to pass the time in a more creative, self-discovering way. We played outside, built hideouts, had imaginary battles, and explored the woods. Occasionally, we were given the opportunity to experience a real adventure.
My Uncle was notorious for bringing home objects that my grandmother had to take care of. My favorite was a horse named Bandit that we kept in our fenced back yard because he kept getting out of the pasture. Bandit was at least saddle-broken so we could ride him. He had thrown me which made me a little pony-shy, but not my friend Nancy. Maybe it was just a Knighton trait, but Nancy had a streak of dare-devil in her and she could be a bit stubborn. She loved a challenge. That is probably why she got her doctorate in pharmacology and runs a successful business of her own. Anyway, she never missed a chance to ride Bandit or any other horse.
On one particular afternoon during our riding escapades, Douglas Price showed up with his Tennessee Walker. Now his horse stood much taller than Bandit. I am not sure how many hands, but he was a BIG horse. Nancy took his offer to ride him as another challenge. She took to the saddle but found the horse to be the stubborn one at this point. In my efforts to help, I broke of a small switch and gave the horse just a little tap with it.
The horse must have been scared of switches since he took off at top speed before I could even give a second swat. All I remember seeing was Nancy’s legs perpendicular to the horse. She was not in the saddle. She appeared to be hovering over it.
Back then there was very little traffic on Old Springville Road, thank goodness. That was exactly where the horse was heading. In fact he was heading home to the Price farm about two miles away. I remember being in a state of shock and hearing Nancy’s screams as she topped the hill headed to Clay proper.
Now my Uncle Woodrow Chandler was custodian at Clay Elementary about a mile away on Old Springville. He could hear Nancy screaming and knew there was something wrong. He and another man were able to stop the horse as it passed the school. He said Nancy was only holding on to the saddle horn. The rest of her body was flying in the air.
I guess Nancy forgave me for the incident because we have remained friends for years. And I don’t think it stopped her from riding either, since she now lives on a “ranch” outside Montgomery.

Carol Hobby
June 2011