The Eighty-Dollar Champion - Elizabeth Letts [118]
And, like an eight-day cruise, the week that at first had seemed as if it would last forever was suddenly drawing to a close. The show’s last day would feature the open jumper stakes. There were three legs to the horse show Triple Crown: the American Horse Shows Association Horse of the Year, the Professional Horseman’s Association Championship, and the National Horse Show Championship. The Horse of the Year and PHA honors were decided on points accumulated throughout the season, and Snowman had already earned enough points to secure those two prizes. Going into the last night of the National, the final leg of the Triple Crown was at stake. If Snowman won the class, he would make a clean sweep, winning show jumping’s top three honors.
The last class of the show involved two rounds over an identical course, one in the afternoon of the show’s last day, and one that night. Points for the two rounds would be added together to decide the champion. The only horses still in contention for show champion were Snowman and First Chance. Going into this final class, First Chance had a one-point lead.
20
“Deutschland über Alles”
New York City, November 1958
On the eve of the last night of the show, Marie Lafrenz, who had been sitting in the press box all week, playing Snowman’s fairy godmother as she sent dispatches to the Herald Tribune, came to Harry with a proposition. Lafrenz did not content herself with pitching stories to newspapers; she had seen the power of television. But she knew that to get a horse story on the air, she needed to have an extraordinary tale to tell. Knowing that, as she put it, “a racy, dramatic presentation helped catch their attention,” she pitched the story of the winning plow horse to a popular talk show on NBC: The Tonight Show. The usual host was Jack Paar, but tonight, a young man named Johnny Carson would be the guest host.
Harry hesitated. How was he supposed to get his horse to the NBC television studios when he had a class coming up that night? Jim Troutwell had taken the van and parked it back in St. James for the duration of the show, since it was far too expensive to pay for New York parking. Marie suggested that he hire a van, but Harry laughed and said no. If it wasn’t too far, then perhaps he could just walk. Harry, leading Snowman, and Marie Lafrenz walked east to the NBC studios in Rockefeller Plaza at Sixth Avenue and Forty-ninth Street, passing through the Broadway theater district en route. Snowman ambled along amid the noise and confusion of midtown, much to the delight of nearby pedestrians and cabbies, who leaned out of their yellow taxis to shout encouragement and advice.
In a studio inside the GE Building, Harry and Snowman found themselves plunged into an unfamiliar world. The Tonight Show was broadcast live from New York and sent out on forty-six affiliate stations. The show was filmed on a soundstage—the backdrop, with Carson’s desk and the chairs for his guests, was lit up by banks of big, hot klieg lights. The cameramen, wearing headphones, sat behind huge, newfangled-looking television cameras. A microphone, moving around on a long wire suspended above the stage, accidentally dipped into the picture from time to time.
Beyond the lit-up stage, a live studio audience sat in the small theater. The space was hardly suited for an animal—especially not a show horse. The studio was noisy, crowded with technicians and all manner of complicated electronics; to a man like Harry, the scene looked eerily futuristic.
Snowman waited in the wings until it was his time to appear onstage. Johnny Carson retold the story of the eighty-dollar wonder horse, and then Harry, leading Snowman, stepped out onto the cramped stage, looking around, calm as usual, his big, sleepy eyes blinking at the hot, bright lights. Harry reassured the TV host that the horse was gentle, and right there, on