Another Day in Paradise

By Martin Martinez

In 1844, there was a land rush to North Central Florida. Rush land was selling for forty-seven cents an acre, and Horatio Elgin purchased 5,600 acres of it. He was the first of four generations to steward this Garden of Eden that turned out to be a paradise for the breeding of Thoroughbred horses. This is the story of the people and the horses of Paradise!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fulton Books, Inc.
• Release date: Mar 22, 2021
• ISBN: 9781649526830

Book preview

Chapter 1

1930

Dr. Virgil Edmund stepped out into the driving rain and into the mud. The good man was a doctor of veterinary medicine, specializing in large and farm animals. Here in Horse Country, at three o’clock in the morning, it usually meant a mare was giving birth. This was not unusual for mares, as they preferred to birth alone and in the dark.

The verifying telephone call came from Paradise Breeding Farm fifteen miles northwest of Ocala, Florida. The unfortunate Dr. Edmund was fifteen miles southeast of the city, meaning a thirty-mile drive through muddy, flooded backcountry roads in his brand-new, just-purchased blue 1930 Buick Series 40 Phaeton that had replaced his old work vehicle, a now worn-out 1915 Ford Model T. He kept the new beauty parked under the old southern magnolia tree, which afforded it some protection from the elements. The tree was draped with curtains of Spanish moss that protected the car nicely from the rain and wind.

Grabbing his implements and making three trips, Dr. Edmund’s rain slicker was thoroughly soaked, and he grimaced, entering the beautiful car and soaking the brand-new upholstery. Oh well, he thought, it had to happen sometime.

The Elgins were one of his most important customers, who owned a 5,600-acre breeding farm with 110 mares and seventy-five stallions. That number varied as the Thoroughbreds were born and sold.

He spent about 50 percent of his business there although they had a couple of hands that could handle most everyday mishaps and minor illnesses. These horses, however, were way too valuable to let anything to chance, and therefore, he was always on call along with his two associates.

This birth was serious! Paradise Breeding Farm was owned by Robert and Marc Elgin, whose family had maintained this particular horse’s bloodline of prize horses from an original pair of Spanish Thoroughbreds, and they represented the pride of the farm. Now Fleet Feet, the newly retired winning mare, was giving birth to her first foal, and it was stuck fast—and a breach! The loss of that foal would be a disaster, but the loss of the mare was unthinkable. Nothing meant more to the Elgins than their horses. This particular bloodline went back almost a hundred years and so was even more of a catastrophe and one that Dr. Edmund knew they expected him to overcome.

As he rumbled down the muddy country road, he thought about the call from a very worried Marc Elgin: Virgil, I haven’t seen one like this one. It’s stuck fast and can’t be turned! This was strange, as there were many experienced hands who routinely handled the births of the many foals born each season at Paradise. If they were worried, then the doctor was worried.

The doctor made good time in spite of the storm in the new car. It was so much easier to drive and had a good heater and great windshield wipers and a way better suspension than the old Ford.

He entered under the huge white rainbow-shaped entrance sign announcing Paradise Breeding Farm and continued to drive two mores miles until he finally saw the mansion in the distance. It was hard to see the imposing three-story affair in the driving rain, but he had been there many times and knew it to be one of the finest examples of antebellum architecture left in this part of Florida. Six Doric columns fronted the house, and it was surrounded by the wraparound porch common to manors built in the 1850s.

He knew it would be another half mile to get past the training paddocks and the mile-long oval practice track to even get close to the huge rows of stables that housed the Thoroughbreds.

In the middle of the first row of stables was the birthing stable, which was a double-wide one. It was lit up, and he could see people moving in and out as he parked near the entrance. He parked his new blue baby and, grabbing his three large medical bags, exited the car. Icky, the stable hand, his face scrunched up against the rain more than his normal scrunched appearance, hurried to assist him. Icky had been with the Elgins since his family moved into one of the workers’ homes on the property and had been working with the horses since he was eleven years old. Good morning, Dr. Edmund. Boy, I’m sure glad to see ya! Fleet Feet’s in a bad way, and Mr. Elgin’s fit to be tied! Let me grab your bags and y’all go on in.

At thirteen years old, Icky was a short, skinny redheaded kid, very affable and loved the Elgins and, more so, all the horses. His father was a college preparatory teacher who had taught Marc and Susannah prior to their acceptance to college. After they were accepted, he fell in love with living at Paradise and hung up his teaching hat to be a jockey and training assistant for the stables. Icky’s mother worked in the manor for Martha Elgin as one of the cooks and general helper.

Doc Edmund entered the birthing stable and saw Robert Elgin, the owner of Paradise, on his knees, worriedly looking down at his mare. Also in the stall was his son Marc, twenty-five, and his wife, Susannah, twenty-four. Also in attendance was the foreman of Paradise, Jake Cain, who normally helped Robert and Marc with the animal husbandry when Dr. Edmund’s services were not required.

Marc Elgin was a tall, lean aristocratic-looking man with dark wavy hair and sunburned skin who was holding the hand of his beautiful red-haired wife. She was twenty-four years old with the most beautiful blue eyes in the county of Marion County, Florida, and she and Marc were the future of Paradise. Their two children, one son and one daughter, were asleep in the manor house.

We got a problem, Doc, said Robert. A breach and something else we haven’t seen before. Its plum stuck and can’t be turned! Doc shed his rain slicker then his jacket then removed his shirt down to his undershirt and quickly opened his bag. He quickly washed his hands and arms with antiseptic up to his shoulders. His patient was lying on her side swinging her massive head back and forth, her eyes seemingly ready to pop out of their sockets. He greased his right arm and expertly slid it up into the birth canal. He began to probe around. Yup, it’s breached. He felt a hoof, but it was on the other side of the cavity, and the foal was presenting its spine to the canal. The doctor pushed the animal forward to get some space and attempt a turn. No room! This must be a big one. No room in here to move it around. He inserted the other arm in and pushed hard forward and tried to push the hindquarters back into the womb to present the head for a normal delivery. Then he felt a big nose through the amniotic sac. He immediately pulled his arms out. He looked at the group and cracked a small smile. We been tugging and a pushing on the wrong end! With this here horse, the big end is the front! He was greeted with confused looks all around. Just let me get him out and you’ll see what I mean. He returned his arms and this time pushed the skinny end and grabbed one hoof first and then the other and pulled. A rush of fluid gushed from the canal, and the doctor kept on pulling. The foal reluctantly moved forward but only a few inches. Now time was of the essence or the foal would suffocate! He continued to probe and felt a very large chest on the animal. This ain’t right, he thought and felt further back. The foal was considerably smaller in the rear. Deformed, he immediately thought. It didn’t matter; the mare must be saved at all costs. He shoved the foal back into the womb and quickly turned the foal around for a hindquarter’s delivery. He then pulled the rear hooves out, sat on his rear with his legs apart for leverage, and pulled hard. The foal slid halfway out then got stuck!

Are those his back legs? Marc asked incredulously. They look like front legs! The doc continued pulling until inch by inch, the foal descended to the outer opening and finally flopped out onto the floor.

Everyone stood with their mouths open; the horse looked kind of backward! It had small underdeveloped hind legs and an overdeveloped chest! Fleet Feet quickly regained her famous feet and began to remove the remains of the birth sac as the foal struggled to rise. Marc said to the room, Well, that was a waste of eleven months. That thing will never walk, let alone race! Doc, you might as well put it down.

Just then, the foal staggered to its feet, fell, regained her stand, and started a wobbly walk to her mother’s teats. Susannah broke into a huge smile and clapped her hands, as did Icky. She can walk too, Marc! Susannah said. And look, she’s already suckling.

Honey, Marc said, putting his arm around her, this horse is deformed. It’s best to just put her down. You know this is a breeding farm, not a circus show. Why, we would be the laughing stock of the county with a freak like that roaming the property.

Doc looked at Susannah’s broken face and said, Well, you know, Marc, technically there doesn’t appear to be anything keeping the foal from walking or someday running. I doubt she’ll ever be a racer, but she might not be too much of an embarrassment. I think she got all wrapped up wrong and it caused her to grow a big chest, which scrunched up her rear legs in the womb. They may develop with exercise.

Susannah brightened, as did Icky. The foreman, Jake, rolled his eyes, in complete agreement with Marc. Marc, oh please can’t we keep her? She could be my horse! She wouldn’t get in the way. Icky could help me with her! Icky nodded his head vigorously, smiling. Marc looked over at his father, Robert, who had been standing against the wall quietly. With a questioning look, raising his eyebrows, Marc asked for support. There was only one problem: Robert adored his daughter-in-law, as did Catherine, his wife.

We’ve got 5,600 acres, Marc. I’m sure Icky could find a spot for her away from visitors and the other horses. She can use the north paddock. It’s too small for racing stock. Susannah beamed up at him with her lovely smile, knowing she had won. Although Robert had pretty much turned over the day-to-day operations of the farm to Marc, he was still the boss, and Marc loved him and had too much respect to even try to argue with him.

In the meantime, the doctor had finished with the examination of the mare, pronounced her fit, and was gathering his equipment. The foal was suckling on her mother who was munching on alfalfa hay, and all was well in the birthing stall.

The rain had stopped and the clouds had moved to the west as the good doctor returned to his beloved car for the trip home. Steam was rising off the paddocks, and the grass twinkled with the remaining drops of rain. The sun was turning the eastern horizon coral pink as it began to rise upon another beautiful day in Paradise.

Chapter 2

The workday would start early on a horse breeding farm. Everyone would rise well before sunrise. In the main house, Cook and her helpers were all up by 5:00 a.m. to start biscuits and bread and set roasts to cook for later in the day and to cook in general—bread, pies, and good ole corn bread. Just the work involved on three meals for both couples, two children, and themselves—totaling ten people—took all day. The cook also would inventory and turn in her list of food requirements and all other kitchen necessities to the mistress who then would buy in bulk or pull supplies from the huge garden in Paradise and stores that were kept on the property.

Martha also managed two maids, two groundskeepers, and a handyman who kept up repairs both inside and out in the house grounds. She supervised the laundering of everyone’s clothes and bedding. This task was made easier with the new version of the Thor washing machine, however. It was noisy, running off a gas engine, and lived in a shed in the back of the house. Still, it was ten times faster than manual washing. It had rollers that would squeeze the water from the clothes. Clotheslines were strung in six rows, and on any given day, you could see sheets flapping in the breeze. Undergarments were placed in the center rows out of sight.

When not cleaning, the maids were sewing, ironing, or helping in the garden. The Elgins paid their employees well, and the positions were very much sought-after on the rare occasion when there was one.

Martha ran the big house with precision and still managed to hold large parties for the surrounding breeder farm families. These could be very extravagant with great quantities of food, hired musicians, extra servers, valets, and Paradise employees acting as butlers and serving maids. The manager of yearlings was an excellent bartender, and Tom O’Reily had a wonderful singing voice as well as was an expert fiddle player.

The house itself was a ten-bedroom, six-bath antebellum with a formal foyer, a spiral freestanding marble staircase, a library, a drawing room, and a large ballroom. The master also had an office, as did the mistress. All the bedrooms were upstairs, and on the third floor was a music room, a playroom, the atrium and greenhouse, and various storage rooms.

The enormous house sat on four acres of land split into two sections. The front was two acres of beautifully landscaped gardens separated by the grand avenue that approached the home from the county road. The entire road was lined with live oaks draped with Spanish moss. As the road neared the home, it curved into a circular driveway. The driveway itself was bordered by huge floral beds of hydrangea, coral bean plants, honeysuckles, asters fire brush, all arranged expertly into a bright colorful panorama admired throughout the county. Their aroma was the first thing the guests noticed while walking from their cars to the front door.

Six grand magnolia trees dotted the beautiful front lawn. The one closest to the house had a three-person swing on both sides of the trunk. Wood furniture was scattered around the veranda that wrapped around the entire house, enabling respite from the sun and access to the cool breeze no matter the time of day.

The back of the house was more utilitarian, however. The first acre was a marvelous garden with wandering walkways with floral bushes, fragrant citrus trees, and wrought iron benches scattered around. A few gorgeous statuaries were strategically placed, and a large pond had a dolphin spewing water at its center.

The back of the yard was dedicated to a large garden where all manner of vegetables and herbs and fruit trees were grown for household consumption. When the harvest exceeded the consumption, it was canned. Potatoes and other root vegetables were cellared in their own cellar. Oranges, grapefruit, key limes, apples and pears, peaches, plums and figs, and even two pecan trees! Nothing went to waste, and the land was fertilized with manure from the cattle herd raised in the south acreage of the farm. Phosphate and potash were plentiful for fertilizer as well. All food scrapes went to the hogs grown a half mile away from the house. Whenever beef or beef products were required, Marc would have one slaughtered from the five-hundred-head herd. Turkeys and chickens were maintained at the hog barn, and eggs were gathered daily.

Martha, however, had Susannah as an able partner in all this responsibility. Someday, Susannah was to inherit the position as mistress. Not any too soon as far as Martha was concerned. Martha loved her dearly and was very pleased with her son’s choice of her as his wife, although everyone saw that choice coming since they were children.

Susannah had lived on the farm since she was born, being the daughter of longtime employees Jake Cain, the farm manager, and Edith Cain, the head housekeeper. They lived in one of the houses built many years ago for just such purpose and were given to the high-level employees so that they might be close to events on the farm that might require their immediate attention.

It was no wonder the day started early here, but after supper was done and the outdoor kitchen was cleaned, the family and the Cains would sit in the front veranda with tall glasses of sweet tea to watch the sunset. Tom O’Reily, the head jockey, and Bill, the trainer, would sometimes wander over with the wives, and they would sing old Irish songs and relax.

The kitchen personnel had their own on-site cabins with their families where they rushed home to join them for the same kind of activities.

Susannah and Marc’s two children were named Tommy and Judith and were three and two, respectively. While the girl had flaming red hair like her mother, Thomas had his father’s looks and hair. This pleased both Susannah and Marc immensely!

The land held everything that did not include Paradise Manor. The property was 5,600 acres and was still one of the largest horse breeding farms in Marion County. But horse breeding wasn’t the only enterprise going on at Paradise. It also included 1,750 acres dedicated to the raising and selling of cattle. There were over 1,500 adult head of prime cattle at any given time, and about 1,450 calves were born each year to replenish the herd as the steers were sold. Paradise cattle grew fat quickly on the mineral-rich grass. Almost 1,450 were sold as a thousand-pound steers each year for a handsome profit. They grazed the acreage and drank from Eden Lake, a 120-acre spring-fed lake. The rain kept the grass deep as the cattle were moved from range to range.

1,050 acres were assigned to the orange groves. These yielded 44,500 trees, which each yielded about 450 fat juicy oranges that were turned into the newly popular orange juice. Pasteurization in 1920 had changed the orange-growing business from a local fruit supply business to a big reach commodity. After the Spanish flu epidemic, the healthy benefits of drinking orange juice made it widely popular. It was also a yearly cash crop that helped to fill the coffers of the Elgin family.

550 acres were set aside for the growing of horse and cattle feed. There was hay to supplement the grass for the cattle and the alfalfa, oats, corn, and barley for the horses. These were not sold but kept the costs of feed down and increased the profit margins for Paradise.

Paradise was mostly self-sustaining, and the production of the land was fully the prevue of Robert, Marc, and Jake Cain. They hired the seasonal workers to pick the oranges and contracted for trucks to transport the cattle and the orange crop. Paradise was a very wealthy farm, and when the Great Depression hit the year before, the farm was largely unaffected.

The rest of the land was reserved for the true love of all the Elgins: horse breeding, horse raising, horse racing, and the selling of racehorses. Everything else just enabled them to peruse this passion that was in their blood for a hundred years and in the blood of most Americans since the creation of the United States. The country was full of horse racing from the great races such as the Kentucky Derby, the Preakness, and the Belmont Stakes down to local county racing. Every place had horse racing as the main event at fairs and on Sundays after church. Rivalries sprung up between any two people with fast horses and big egos, which brought in big crowds and big bets. Everyone loved a good horse race.

In 1930, the entire world was mesmerized with the sport and everyone wanted the best. The best of the best was the Thoroughbred horse.

The bloodline of the red-chestnut Paradise stallions and mares came mostly from two single horses brought from London a hundred years ago. The stallion was named Pharaoh and was a massive beast standing at seventeen hands and weighing in at 1,203 lb. The mare was named Nefertiti and stood sixteen and a half hands tall and weighed 1,150 lb. They produced some of the best offspring ever seen in the United States. Paradise had thirty-five stallions of their bloodline and 175 mares. The farm also had a line of whites. These pure white-coated pink-skinned horses were extremely popular. The original white stallion belonged to Horatio Elgin, the founder of Paradise. His name was Ghost. They also had a line of blacks that were purebred Thoroughbreds. Their coats were glossy and all black, and they were big proud strong racers. No white socks on these horses! Paradise also had a line of rare Akhal-Teke Thoroughbreds that were tan-colored and had gorgeous blue almond-shaped eyes. These were known for their speed and endurance.

All these were their breeding stock. On any given moment, the farm would have a hundred yearlings waiting training and a hundred colts and foals in training. They usually sold them as yearlings or, after two years and so, had a continuous crop of fine Thoroughbreds for each year, and they all sold! They commanded the best prices in the country, and the horse breeding arm of the Paradise Farm brought in just as much money as the cattle and oranges combined!

Paradise Manor was located at the extreme eastern edge of the property closest to the county road. That left the entire working farm to the east. There was an access road running down the center of the acreage that one could go from one end to the other. It had feeder roads that went to all the outskirts of all the main areas.

To the west of the manor and behind were the livestock barns that hosted the saddle horses that all the Elgins rode for pleasure or to get around instead of taking the cars or trucks. Also, there were the milk cows and the pigs. They kept a few turkeys and geese for butchering on holidays. There were two hundred chickens cooped where eggs were gathered, as the Elgins used a lot for cakes, breakfast, and many other meals.

To the south were ten fenced paddocks of varying sizes painted white with connecting gates used for exercising the foals and colts. Running training was performed here, leading the riderless yearlings. Trained walking and trotting were also done in these paddocks. At other times, they were used to break fifteen-month-old foals and colts. Northwest of this area was the start of the barns housing rows and rows of horse stalls. They each consisted of one access row down the center of each barn with one row of twenty-five stalls on each side. There were sixteen of these barns in four rows and housed all the Thoroughbreds at Paradise.

There were ten stable hands whose only jobs were to feed and water the horses. Their stalls had to be mucked every time the horses were out for training or exercising. Fresh water at all times! The Elgins were very strict in the care of their investments, and although there was a Great Depression going on with cheap labor to be had, they still paid more than a fair wage for good work.

In front of the barns was a five-eighth of a mile full-on oval racetrack for two-year-olds complete with a tower to time the horses at each of the quarter poles. Meticulous independent records were kept of each horse to be presented at sale. The better the time, the more the price. Inside the oval, more training took place all day every day except for Sundays.

To the south of the track was the alfalfa fields, and to the west of them, the corn and barley acreage. To the west of these were the fenced pastures for cattle grazing. To the south of that were grazing fields of fresh tall calcium-rich grass for the horses. To the west of those started the orange groves that went as far as the eye could see.

Around the alfalfa field was a fenced narrow uphill walking and running track that ran for about one mile before turning around and circling back downhill to the beginning. This track was for strengthening the horses’ hind legs. There was nothing better for this than that track.

Paradise truly was paradise! All the land was put to use, and all the crops geared to support the business of raising and training Thoroughbred horses for sale all over the world. There were a handful of breeding farms in the more famous farms of bluegrass Kentucky who could equal Paradise, but none could beat it for the pure beauty, efficiency, or quality of the final product, the Ocala born-and-bred Marion County racehorse.

Chapter 3

The day after the birth of the ugly foal found Susannah and Icky Barnes going over the foal with a fine-tooth comb. Susannah was probing the back legs with experienced fingers and hands. The muscles are certainly underdeveloped, Icky, but everything seems to be in the right place.

Ma’am, Icky said, I think this foal just needs a whole lot of exercise. I don’t reckon that it’ll ever grow into that big chest though. She sure has a beautiful red coat, looks like copper shining in the sun.

Yes, answered Susannah, sighing. But she has a perfectly proportioned head to the chest. It’s just the rear half. Maybe she’ll grow to match it. The foal was standing firmly next to his dam, and Fleet Feet was nuzzling him, encouraging her foal to show them her walking skills, which she did. She walked to Icky and put her head on his shoulder. Icky petted the top of her head. Suzanne rubbed her back and kissed it. "Don’t worry, little one. We’re going