My First Kentucky Derby Ronnie Dee   (c) Copyright 2026 by Ronnie Dee

Kauai King and Don Brumfield in the winners circle 1966 Kentucky Derby. Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

My first remembrance of the Kentucky Derby was in 1948. I was nine years old and I became aware of the race by listening to the radio and reading the sports pages of the Courier Journal. I was already a sports fan and was fascinated with baseball box scores, as I still am, when I noticed the articles about the great horse race coming up right here in Louisville, Kentucky.

I knew absolutely nothing about horse racing at the time and I chose as my favorite that day, Coaltown, the stablemate of Citation. Citation is considered one of the top three racers of all time. I didn't know that. When my pal Kenny Downs and I decided to race around the block, he chose to be Citation and I, Coaltown. He beat me by a good margin as I was never a fast runner, much to my chagrin, and that is what happened in the real race.

On a cool, damp Derby day, Citation laid close to Coaltown for a mile and then Eddie Arcaro sent him past his stablemate in the last quarter for an easy 3 1/2 length victory, one of the 27 wins in the 29 races of Citation's career.  He became the first million dollar winner.

So I guess that is what lit the fire. From then on, I have loved all of the festivities of Derby Week and, of course, the race. By 1966, I had been to Churchill Downs a number of times, but not the big race. So Jerry, a friend from work and I went to the Kentucky Derby. I already knew who my horse was going to be: Kauai King.

Kauai King was the son of my all time favorite horse, Native Dancer. I watched with great excitement in 1953 when the Grey Ghost, or just "The Dancer," ran in the Derby. He was a shoo in. I couldn't wait. Then he was beaten when he got into all kinds of trouble and didn't get free until the home stretch. The home stretch at Churchill is exactly 1,234.5 feet long. Nearly a quarter mile. The Dancer charged down that stretch like a silver blur on the black and white TV and failed by a head. One stride later he was in front. Even the Racing Form said he lost, but "was probably best." That was the only race in his life that he lost. I quickly learned that horse racing is not cut and dried. I still haven't gotten over it.

I have been to those hallowed grounds many times. Some occasions have been very enjoyable and many have been miserable. I can remember many trips with my Uncle Kenny, who loved the races and  had a private box above the home stretch. He was an independent architect and would go to the track often. I was off work on a weekday for many years and would go to his office and help him out, sometimes sketching duplicates for him or whatnot. He would always give me twenty dollars and we would often just take off and go to the track. Those were naturally fun times.

There were also days  when I went out by myself and didn't do well. I recall standing on the brick walkway on the ground floor, near the paddock, in my "Columbo" raincoat, while an icy wind blew hard under a grey, damp sky, and the temperature twenty degrees colder than any place else. I would tear up my losing tickets and toss them in one of the fire barrels situated here and there and think, "What in the Hell am I doing here? I'm broke, wet, cold and alone. I am the most miserable person in the world and I am literally throwing my money away. I could stay at home where it is at least warm and set a match to a wad of money. It would accomplish the same thing and save me a lot of time and trouble."

And a few times, I would even have to take a bus or two to get home.

Then the next week or so, when I returned, I might win three or four races and I would be ecstatic under a warm, sunny sky, sitting in a box seat on the home stretch, with some money in my pocket, drinking a cold beer and casually watching the horses and the ladies and having some laughs with Uncle Kenny.

In 1966 I figured, "What the heck, I should go to the Derby. I've never been, so it will be an experience if nothing else." I had yet to meet a stranger from out of town who didn't ask, "Oh, have you ever been to the Derby?"

Now I could truthfully answer, "Yes, of course I have."

So along with my friend and fellow emploee Jerry, from the Courier Journal, I went to the Derby. We parked on Southern Parkway and walked about a mile to the track, which wasn't so bad to avoid exorbitant parking fees imposed by the locals. It was jam packed as we entered through the Longfield Avenue entrance. We would have to pass through the tunnel under the track to reach the infield. The infield is only open for special days, like the Derby; the Kentucky Oaks, which is on Derby Eve; and Breeders' Cup days, which are run the first weekend in November.
 
You could stay in the grandstand, but you would never see the racetrack. We intended to go to the infield all along, so we headed for the tunnel. The tunnel leads from the grandstand to the infield and goes under the eighty foot wide racetrack. It is about twenty feet wide, which is not enough when thousands of people are trying to get through it at the same time. I was contemplating whether to get next to the wall or join the crowd, when I was just swept up and carried through the thing. I swear, I did not take a step from the entrance to nearly the exit. I was literally carried by the mob. It was a little scary at first, but I relaxed and went with the flow. I have never before or since been in a situation like that, but since the people weren't in a panic, it wasn't so bad.

So we made it to the infield, a vast space. The Churchill Downs complex is huge. There are about 47 large barns, housing around 1,400 horses on the backside. The backside is a whole community in and of itself, with restaurants, barns, residences and businesses. It is a closed community, open only to the people involved in the horse business and there are a lot of them. You have trainers, jockeys, exercise riders, grooms, stable hands, owners, agents, valets, cooks, waiters, etc. A vast network of people who show up for work at around 4:30 am every day. Back side passes are treasured and not issued to  "just anyone."

I would often roam the grandstand and clubhouse from top to bottom and I would be exhausted at the end of the day, but it was fun. I would go down to the track, to the pathway the horses use exiting the paddock, where they step out onto the track to the strains of, "My Old Kentucky Home" on Derby day, and pet the lead ponies and give them candy. One year I was down there standing right next to Lynn Swann, the Pittsburgh Steeler wide receiver, who was working with the TV crew and I was surprised at how small he was. He really wasn't much bigger than me and I wondered how he could be so good at that size in the NFL. He was joking around with some of the outriders and seemed like a pretty good guy.

Another time, I was leaving my uncle's box and Wayne Lucas was standing right in front of me, looking resplendent as always. I didn't bother him, I just nodded at him as I passed and he smiled and nodded back. During Derby week 1984, Donna and I were down by the rail, when the most beautiful horse I've ever seen trotted by, almost within an arm's reach. We were in awe. I said, "That's got to be a Derby horse," and we found out later that it was Swale, They had brought him out to school him in front of the crowd. Swale won the Derby that year, then ran poorly in the Preakness, but came back strong to win the Belmont. About ten days after the Belmont, he came out for a morning workout and fell over dead on the track with a massive heart attack. Swale was gone at the age of three. It was heartbreaking for us and the whole horse racing world.

On Derby Day, 1966, we staked out our spot in the infield. It was a warm, lovely day. We set up at the end of the backstretch, just before the third turn. There was a six foot chain link fence that ran down the backstretch that was only about twenty feet from the rail. From ground level, you could not see very far up or down the racetrack. We had a cooler and I stood on the cooler and could see over the fence, all of the way down the track.

In the early 1970's somebody threw a can of beer at the horses as they came by and caused a big to do, so they moved the fence farther away from the track and now they have a turf track inside the dirt oval, so all of that viewing space is gone. But now they have the giant screen in the infield and everyone can see the races no matter where you might be.

There were people all over the place and when I went to place some bets it was a madhouse. The betting windows were in a little valley and from the back of the lines, I could see it might be trouble. The line from each of the two to ten dollar windows went in a line for about ten deep,  then they just  conglomerated. You might want to make a $5 win bet, but end up in the $10 place window. I mean you actually had to battle the crowd to get to your correct window. So I did not bet on every race.

I placed my Derby bets early and prepared for the big race. What a great view I had. I could see the horses coming toward me from way down the track and when they passed by and started into the turn, I could see the horses great and hear the jockeys whistling and chicking at their mounts and shouting at one another, and the thundering hoofbeats were breathtaking. It made my hair stand on end.

I plainly saw my horse, Kauai King was in front, on the rail, and Don Brumfield had a good hold of him. Stupendous was running second, but looked about ready to fall back. I was sure Advocator wasn't going to catch him, and over the crowd, I could see the heads of the horses and the jocks half the way down the home stretch and nobody had caught him yet. Nobody did, but the final margin was closer than I had anticipated. Advocator finished second, 1/2 length behind Kauai King, and Blue Skyer, with local favorite Earlie Fires in the irons, was only a nose behind him. But Kauai King and I had won the Derby.

I didn't win as much as Kauai King, but I was happy with my $17 reward, and the knowledge that my horse racing acumen paid dividends that day. We left before the last race and didn't encounter any problems getting out of the place. I've been again, but that first time, all things considered, was the best of all.