Sgt. York, the upstate-born jet-black gelding, will tug at the nation's heartstrings when he becomes the riderless horse trailing the caisson carrying Ronald Reagan's body tomorrow night in Washington.
Sgt. York's solemn trek
By DAVE GOLDINER
DAILY NEWS STAFF WRITER
Tuesday, June 8th, 2004
He was no winner on the race track, but a skinny Standardbred from New York is set to capture the nation's heart when he serves as the riderless horse in Ronald Reagan's funeral procession.
Sgt. York, a 13-year-old trotter who rarely won in three years at Yonkers and Freehold raceways, will walk stoically behind the caisson bearing the 40th President's flag-draped coffin to the Capitol tomorrow night, an Army spokesman said yesterday.
"I'm just so happy for the horse," said Marie Dobrisky of Howell, N.J., a Freehold Raceway worker whose son served in the Army Caisson Platoon. "I'm so proud of what he's doing."
The jet-black gelding will carry an empty saddle and stirrups turned backward to symbolize loss when he walks along Washington's Constitution Ave.
Even though he's no Secretariat or Smarty Jones, Sgt. York has the docile temperament and perfect appearance to represent the country's grief.
"He wasn't a real fast racehorse, but he looks like a million bucks," said Ellen Harvey, who publishes a harness racing newsletter. "This is an all-American horse."
The star of the Cinderella story was born in Jamesport, N.Y., and owner David Brandwine trained him in Freehold, N.J.
He raced under the name Allaboard Jules, but won just five out of 23 races between 1994 and 1996. He made just $14,881 in prize money and was on his last legs when he finished third in his final race on Jan. 25, 1996.
"He was a dead-lame horse, bowlegged and cross-eyed," recalled Brandwine. "I was saying, 'He's going to die on the race track one day.'"
Brandwine ran into Dobrisky after the race and she told him that her son, Sgt. Frank Dobrisky, was looking for horses for his ceremonial Army unit.
"The horse really wasn't making any money for me," Brandwine said. "I really wanted to find a good home for him."
At first, Army handlers took a look at the scrawny, scuffed-up racehorse and rejected him.
But the horse won them over with his unflappable demeanor and loving manner. He passed with flying colors when they fired bullets and grenades over his head to simulate a disaster or 21-gun salute at a ceremony.
"They had cannons going off, flags waving in his face, nothing upset him," Harvey said.
Sgt. York took over the top job in the Army's ceremonial unit in 1998 when another riderless horse died, and has served flawlessly ever since.
"He doesn't write home," Brandwine said. "But I know for sure he's doing a good job."