When I was in high school, some of my fellow classmates were avid readers of sports or fashion magazines, but I eagerly looked forward to the arrival of The Blood Horse, Hoof Beats and the Draft Horse Journal in my mailbox. I absorbed the content of the articles, studied the photographs of great horses, memorized pedigrees and spoke of trainers, jockeys, drivers, breeders and owners with such familiarity that my family probably thought I was teetering on the edge of insanity. I did not excel in English class, which is interesting since I have been published in academic publications alongside tenured professors, but at that time I was simply not a good student. When I transferred from a traditional English class to Applied Communications, I fared much better.
My teacher, Mrs. Mary Barnwell, a sweet but no-nonsense lady whose legs required braces due to her having polio as a child, gave us students an assignment one day. We were instructed to write about the career we wished to pursue and give an oral presentation. Some of my classmates were determined to become professional athletes. Some wanted to be teachers. Some planned to become attorneys or doctors. I decided to do some research and write about becoming a bloodstock agent....
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