The Enochlaphobic Amnesiac Horse Park Bugler

His brain regained function after six months of cognitive rehabilitation, but erratically.

Lieutenant Jack Dawkin’s heroic actions saved the lives of his squad. But all Jack got in return was the presidential Medal of Honor, an honorable discharge from the army, intermittent amnesia, and a deathly fear of large, noisy crowds. The army psychologist said Jack’s fear was a result of reliving his traumatic escape from a prisoner-of-war camp, then brawling through a noisy throng of angry townsfolk outside the prison.  

Jack was an army bugler prior to his fateful tour of duty as squad leader of a special operations unit in Iraq. His bugling skills, along with some persuasive clout from the government, landed him his first civilian job as the new Senior Bugler at the Keeneland Horse Park in Lexington, Kentucky. 

Monday morning Jack arrived at the Keeneland paddock office and reported to the soon-to-retire Senior Bugler. 

Good morning, you must be our new war-hero bugler,” said Richard Paul.

“Yes, good morning sir, Jack Dawkins reporting for duty.”

“Nice to meet you Jack. My name is Richard Paul. People around here call me many things.” Richard paused, laughing at his own joke. “But we’re not really that formal around here. Call me Rich. I’ve been the chief bugler here at Keeneland for going on forty years now. I’m not really ready to retire, but the Keeneland bosses think I am, so c’est la vie. Welcome aboard. We’ll start your one week of orientation and training this morning. Then I’m out the door and it’s all you.” 

Throughout the week, after each training session, Jack went to a horse barn to practice. Every day Jack practiced for hours. While he practiced, one horse, Goldenrod, curiously listened from a nearby stall. The horse became enamored with Jack’s bugling, how Jack’s cheeks bulged out as he played, and the smell of carrots that Jack kept in his pants pocket. Goldenrod especially liked a song Jack warmed up with: “Take Me Out to the Ball Game,” a song Jack heard back in the day when he attended Chicago Cubs baseball games at Wrigley Field. Sometimes Goldenrod would even neigh along with Jack’s playing.

 The full week of training went well except for one thing: Jack did not tell Mr. Paul about his deathly fear of large, noisy crowds.

On race day the following Monday morning, with Richard Paul gone, Jack felt fully trained and ready to start the day’s racing by playing that famous bugle call: “Call to the Track.”

Race day came. Sunny, warm, and blue sky. Full house with five thousand excited, noisy, racing fans. The track announcer gave his opening remarks to the crowd. Jack was not at the starting line yet to bugle start the race, so the announcer called for Jack over the public address system to please report to the starting gate.

Rusty, a horse trainer in the horse barn where Jack was practicing, heard the announcer and saw Jack hiding in one of the horse stalls. “Come on Jack, You are supposed to be out there right now!”

“I can’t,” Jack said. “I saw that large crowd out there, yelling their brains out and I got all locked up inside. I will not be able to blow a single note while looking at all those screaming people out there staring at me.” 

“OK, follow me.”

Jack followed Rusty to a nearby horse trailer that was hitched to a pickup truck. 

“Hop into the trailer.”

“Why?” Jack asked.

“Just get in. I’ll drive you to the winner’s circle. It is close enough to the starting gate that you can play your bugle from the horse trailer without looking at the crowd. The trailer walls will muffle the crowd noise. That way you won’t be scared. We can leave the rear trailer door open and you can play out the back of the trailer. Hurry up, let’s go!”

Reluctantly, Jack climbed into the horse trailer.  

“Another problem.”

“What’s that?” Rusty asked.

“When I get out there, I will be so scared, that my amnesia will kick in. I probably will not even remember what song to play.”

“Don’t worry,” Rusty said. “I’ll join you in the trailer after I park the truck. That way I can whistle you the tune you are supposed to play”.

“I’ll give it a try. You may also have to grab me by the shoulders and shake me. That sometimes restores my memory.”

“Will do. Let’s hurry, the horses are waiting at the starting gate right now!”

Rusty backed up the trailer to the winner’s circle and got in the trailer with Jack. Jack stuck his head out the trailer door and got the announcer’s attention that he was ready to start bugling.

Jack’s tardiness delayed the program so long that the starting gate crew had already loaded the gates with the horses and their mounted jockeys. The announcer looked over at the starting gate and got the go-ahead sign from the gate keeper that the horses were in place and ready to start. 

The announcer refocused the distracted audience with his booming voice. “Ladies and gentlemen, Sorry for that slight delay. On the bugler’s call, the horse race begins”. 

Jack looked out the back of the trailer, saw the crowd and froze, triggering his amnesia. He could not remember which song to play to start the race. Rusty tried whistling the song that Jack was supposed to play, but when Jack heard the whistling, he reverted to playing his warm up song, “Take Me Out to the Ball Game.” The horses burst out of the starting gate, with the crowd howling with laughter and clapping when they heard the song Jack was playing. Jack was so excited with this positive feedback that he continued bugling his warmup song throughout the entire race. 

Goldenrod got a slow start out of the gate, but quickly found an incredible burst of speed after hearing Jack’s continued playing. On the home stretch, kicking up track dirt with his pace-winning gallop, Goldenrod took the lead and maintained it all the way past the finish line.  

As soon as the race was over, the track owner and the announcer were enraged. They hurried over to Jack. The track owner screamed, “Get your stuff, and get out of here. You are fired! And what’s the big grin for? Why are you so happy?”

“Because when I heard the crowd during the race, I realized they were clapping and laughing with me, not at me. The behavior of the large, noisy crowd actually healed me from my fear of large, noisy crowds!”

Goldenrod’s owner came over to shake Jack’s hand. “Hi, I’m Frank Miller. Thank you for playing Goldenrod’s new favorite song that led him to victory. Here’s a cash bonus for your share of the race winning purse. And I hear that you are out of a job and looking for work. I’d like to offer you a job on Goldenrod’s training crew, playing "Take Me Out to the Ball Game" during his morning track workouts.”

“Yes Mr. Miller, I’d love to.”

And while Jack and Mr. Miller were finalizing details of Jack’s new job, Jack was rubbing Goldenrod’s neck and sneaking him a couple of carrots.