"On With The Show!"… Horse Power… Ron Hevener

Growing up in the land of the Amish, where carriages brighten up every road, I know a little something about horse power.

From the time I could first say the word “horse” it was the snort and drive of Standardbreds and Thoroughbreds trotting past our house that caught my attention and prickled my skin. Where did they come from, I wondered. Where were they going?

Why didn’t we have carriages like that and horses to go with them? Kids don’t figure things out right away. Some of us don’t figure things out for a long time after that (but, that’s another story). In my case, I just wanted to know about all those big horses.

How well I remember convincing my sister, Sandy, to loan me the savings she kept in a tin can under her bed. “We can pitch together and buy a horse!” I said, hoping our combined $5 would be enough as we rode our bikes to a nearby horse trader.

“What kinda horse did you say you’re lookin’ for?” he asked, chewing a cigar and pushing back his hat.

“Big eyes, a curvy neck, little ears and big nose holes. And the tail has to arch real high.”

I guess he never read The Black Stallion, because his remark was something like … “I don’t know. A horse like that could be hard to find. It could take me a while.” Of course, we knew “a horse like that” was as close as the school library.

Wanting to make a good impression, and hoping he knew we meant business, Sandy and I handed over our $5 down payment and rode off on two bikes that suddenly felt an awful lot like horses that day.

We never heard from the horse trader again, but, in the course of time, each of us found horses to fill a passion that, instead of fading away, only grew stronger. No matter where we lived, we managed to find places to board a horse or two and ride as much as we could. Although we had Morgans, Thoroughbreds, Standardbreds and many different kinds in between, it was Arabians that we loved most.

Sandy, the little girl who gave her savings to the horse trader, would grow up to ride the beautiful Grey daughter of a million-dollar stallion from Russia. And, later, she would own a mare sired by one of the last colts born in the Royal Stables of Egypt.

My own Arabians would be equally as interesting. I would grow up to be a writer, find an Arabian racehorse named “Nahgua” at a country horse sale, and make him famous in my novel, “Fate of the Stallion.” Years later, when the story went into production for a TV special, we needed a stallion to portray him – and there was only one place to go for a horse so tall. That place was Selket Arabians in a faraway town called Hickory Corners, Michigan – and the horse was a young bay stallion named Selket Louchiano.

Louchiano was perfect for television. Not only was he fun-loving and willing to please, but he was unusually tall and exotic. We had found the horse for our film, and we had done it without the help of a long-ago, cigar-chomping horse trader. Little did I know how much this horse would change my life!

Louchiano was in the early stages of a successful Halter career, and, when I first saw him, he was competing in the National Arabian Show. In his class were other young stallions that would soon rise to the top of the breed, setting record prices and stirring the imagination of the horse-loving public. Sandy and I felt lucky to see these things, and we were amazed at how far our love of horses had taken us.

As I sat there at the National show, with Louchiano’s breeder, Jim Andreson, I remembered the little boy from Lancaster County’s Amish country, watching horses go by as they pulled the carriages of my friends and neighbors. I could still hear the clip-clop of their hooves on the road, and smell the sweat on their necks. Back then, I was just another kid who loved horses. Now, I was seeing a horse of my own at a national show. To say it was dizzying, is putting it mildly. Maybe my dizziness had something to do with how far up our row of seats was!

To the surprise of a few people that weekend, I changed Louchiano’s career plan. Instead of sending him on to the next big show, as everyone expected for a stallion of such quality, I sent him back East, to Pennsylvania, to get ready for the TV documentary about Fate of the Stallion, and for training under saddle. It was a good move. Louchiano took to his training with enthusiasm, and easily qualified for competition in Hunter classes.

As we filmed Louchiano during the East Coast Arabian Championships held at the same place where Nahgua had found a home so many years before, I wondered about a greater Fate than the one that had guided Nahgua’s story. Or, perhaps, I sensed that his story had gone on to chapters I never imagined.

How else can I explain the beautiful Arabian horses that fill my life today?

The place where the old horse trader lived is a housing development now. Amish buggies are still traveling the roads where I grew up. But, hundreds of miles away in a town called Hickory Corners, Michigan, I am walking to the barn every morning to see a whole herd of Arabian horses. As I say hello to Louchiano’s brothers and sisters, and as I talk with his dam and all the rest of the Selket Arabians in this wonderful collection of horses from Russia, Poland, Canada and the United States. It is Louchiano’s sons and daughters that I love the most.

Seeing them trotting and playing in the pastures, I remember two kids asking for a horse with “Big eyes, a curvy neck, little ears and big nose holes. And the tail has to arch real high.”

I remember these things … and, for a moment, I know how far a thing called “love” can take you. For a moment, I know a deeper meaning of what “horse power” is all about.