FEATURE - Blue Hill Farm
Transcription
FEATURE - Blue Hill Farm
FEATURE Bibby Farmer Hill has been an integral part of the career of her daughter, +ELLEY&ARMERFROMLEADLINE CLASSESTOTHELEADINGHUNTER RIDERTITLEATTHE$EVON(ORSE 3HOW0A M AY/JUNE 2015 5 . 4!# + % $ the moms who put them Growing up as the child of a top equestrienne doesn’t guarantee your own success in the saddle. But it doesn’t hurt, either. I By MOLLIE BAILEY MOLLIE BAILEY PHOTO f you look carefully in the stands at any horse show, you can see them: professional horsewomen packed together to watch their children compete, at least as nervous as the other parents—though they’re obviously more accustomed to watching rides from the in-gate than helplessly from the bleachers. Many of them put their own riding careers on hold to raise and support the next generation of equestrians, and even after their kids are grown and honing their own professional careers, many still plan their own work schedules around sitting in those bleachers, riding every stride alongside their children. These children, in turn, have enjoyed the advantage of their mothers’ connections, wisdom and innate talent, but often they’ve also had to shake off associated expectations to find their own success. In honor of Mother’s Day, we reached out to multi-generational horsewomen (and one young man as well) to explore the sacrifices, challenges and joys of sharing not just genes, but a lifelong passion. # ( 2/ . / & ( / 2 3 % #/ - M AY/JUNE 2015 FEATURE LEADING BY EXAMPLE: Bibby Farmer Hill and Kelley Farmer hen Kelley Farmer was 11, she asked her mother, Bibby Farmer Hill, for a minibike just like all her friends at the horse shows had. But Hill couldn’t afford one, so she told her daughter if she figured out how to earn the money herself, she’d track down a used one. “She found this guy with a mango grove,” Hill recalls, “and she and a friend made him a deal that they’d take his mangos and sell them, and they’d pay him half and keep the other half. So every day in the summer, the girls would go ride in the morning then go gather mangos and set up a mango stand on the side of the road, and all the people coming home from work would stop and buy mangos. Sure enough, she earned the money, and I had Bibby Farmer HillGOT +ELLEY&ARMERHERlRST PONY!PRIL3HOWERS 88 M AY/JUNE 2015 5 . 4!# + % $ to go find her that minibike.” Farmer’s precocious gumption and sense of responsibility didn’t surprise Hill. After all, she herself had had to earn money to buy her first saddle as a child, and she’d always emphasized that same self-reliance to her daughter, in and out of the barn. “I grew up knowing that my mother had instilled in me that work ethic,” says Farmer, 39. “I knew that just because I was a good rider, that didn’t make me a trainer or able to be an accomplished professional. She taught me that when I turned pro, I wasn’t going to walk into a riding job. She did everything possible, everything known to man, to give me a better opportunity or a better ride. Everything I have is because of her.” Farmer grew up in Miami, where her mother worked managing barns and teaching lessons, and the connections she made through Hill have echoed throughout her storied riding career. Farmer’s first saddle was a hand-me-down from David Burton Jr., and when Farmer was too small to protest, Margie Engle would get a kick out of dunking her in the water trough at her Gladewinds Farm. In tough times the horse world also provided support, like when Farmer’s father, tennis pro Carl Richard Farmer, battled leukemia. For a time Hill juggled raising her daughter, caring for her sick husband and working in the barn. When Rich’s health went downhill (he died when his daughter was just 7), Kelley briefly moved in with Jennifer Beiling and her four sisters, joking that she was the sixth Beiling. Hill used her connections and eye for horseflesh to make sure her daughter always had something to ride, albeit often unbroken ponies or very green mounts. But people started noticing when their ponies came back better than they’d left, and Kelley got a big break at AHSA Pony with Kelley focusing on high-end open hunters at Lane Change Farm and Hill training many of the top pony hunters in the country out of Don Stewart Stables, they’re still intertwined. Hill invests in horses her daughter rides, having owned part of Scripted, Certainty and Mindset, along with one of Kelley’s newest rides, In The first person to congratulate Kelley FarmerONHERSECONDPLACED Private. And Kelley lNISHATTHE53(*!)NTERNATIONAL(UNTER$ERBY&INALSWASHERMOTHER"IBBY occasionally hops &ARMER(ILL aboard one of Hill’s ponies for a tune-up, counting 2013 USEF always been a certain horse or a certain Pony Finals grand pony hunter champion place. She couldn’t watch Scripted for Sassafras Creek as her favorite. a long time, but she’s getting better. By Hill also never misses a chance to Capital Challenge [Md.] last year, she watch her daughter ride if she can possibly could peek around the corner and watch get there—in theory. She’s so superstitious part of it.” that she can’t always watch Kelley compete Kelley describes their relationship havin real time. ing nearly transcended the mother-daughWhen Kelley was a junior, Hill tried ter role. They’re best friends, and at the end to keep herself calm by needlepointing but of the day, Hill is still the first one Kelley often ended up poking fingernail holes calls when she has big news. into the arm of fellow hunter guru Linda “She still calls me when she’s excited Hough, whose daughter Lauren was often about something and says, ‘Mom I just got in the same classes. During Kelley’s big- a new horse! You have to see it! You’ll love gest classes or with certain horses, Hill it!’ ” Hill says. “To me, that’s why she’s so still can’t bring herself to watch and has to successful: because she has so much comwalk away. passion for the horse and what it takes to “She went to the barn the year Mythi- get there. If you ask me, she got the knack cal was second at Derby Finals, and she and talent from her dad, and I hope she couldn’t watch Round 2 of the Maclay learned the compassion and responsibility Finals when I won,” Kelley says. “It’s from me.” “She did everything possible, everything known to man, to give me a better opportunity or a better ride. Everything I have is because of her.” —KELLEY FARMER # ( 2/ . / & ( / 2 3 % #/ - M AY/JUNE 2015 89 MOLLIE BAILEY PHOTO Finals (Va.) when she was 14. The Lindner family lent her a fantastic pony in Change Of Heart the day before the final, which she won. It was the springboard that would catapult her to the top of the ASPCA Maclay Finals (N.Y.) and help her finish second at AHSA Medal Finals (Pa.) and the Washington International Equitation Championship (Md.). Meanwhile Hill encouraged her daughter to explore opportunities that took her far from home. Kelley served as a working student for Bill Cooney and Frank Madden at Beacon Hill (N.J.) and spent a month in California training with Jimmy Williams at the Flintridge Riding Club. When Havens Schatt aged out of the juniors, Kelley headed to Ocala, Fla., to ride for Don Stewart Stables, and when the farm needed a new barn manager, Kelley called her mom and told her to come help. The timing was right, and Hill headed to Ocala to begin a 20-plus year partnership with Stewart. Even now that Kelley’s worked her way to becoming a decorated rider and the first hunter professional to earn a million dollars in the sport since the U.S. Hunter Jumper Association started keeping records, she and her mother have stayed very close. When Kelley broke her collarbone right before the 2014 USHJA International Hunter Derby Championships (Ky.), her mother was there to nurse her through her surgeries and provide moral support, just as she was when a green pony flipped 10-year-old Kelley, breaking her pelvis. “Anyone would do that for their child,” Hill, 64, says with a shrug. “After the collarbone we really had to get on her case and hold her down. It was really frustrating, because she was second the year before and had a great horse [in Mindful] that was going well and looked like they could win.” While their careers have diverged, FEATURE FORGING THEIR OWN PATHS: Jessica and Missy Ransehausen PHOTO COURTESY OF LISA THOMAS Though she grew up in the shadow of dressage legend Jessica Ransehousen (standing, with Hugh Knows) ,-ISSY 2ANSEHOUSENON#RITICAL $ECISIONFOUNDHEROWNPATH TOTHETOPOFHERCHOSENSPORT M AY/JUNE 2015 5 . 4!# + % $ n some ways, Missy Ransehausen’s résumé clearly echoes that of her mother, Jessica Ransehausen. Both have ridden for the flag in international competition, and both served as chefs d’equipe for the U.S. Equestrian Federation. Both women even achieved the same result at their first Pan American Games: dressage team silver and individual fifth for Jessica in 1959, and eventing team silver and individual fifth for Missy in 1995. And Jessica watched her daughter win team silver in person, as she was serving as the dressage chef d’equipe at the time. But Missy, 45, knew from the start she wanted to find her own way rather than stay her mother’s shadow. When Jessica moved the family to Europe to train with Reiner Klimke in the 1970s, 7-yearold Missy learned to jump aboard Ingrid Klimke’s first pony. Shortly thereafter she announced to her mother—a five-time national dressage champion and threetime Olympian—that she had no interest in perfecting circles for the rest of her riding career. Luckily Jessica had helped plenty of eventers with their dressage, so she knew where to get her daughter started once they returned to the United States. Bruce Davidson got Missy hooked on the sport by pairing her up with a schoolmaster he’d spotted in a clinic in Rhode Island. That mare, Nina, took her through training level and helped her earn her C-2 rating with the Cheshire Pony Club (Pa.). As she moved up the levels, her mother’s dressage expertise suddenly became a major asset, especially with her first upper-level horse, Druid. “He was an amazing jumper, thank God, because oh my God was he awful on the flat!” recalls Missy. “It was so frustrating. I remember we would get into these huge fights over him, and for the life of me, I couldn’t do it. And of course I was a hot teenager, and I’d mouth off and say, PHOTO COURTESY OF JESSICA RANSEHOUSEN Despite her passion for dressage, *ESSICA 2ANSEHOUSEN DIDNT DISCOURAGEHER DAUGHTERWHEN SHEPREFERRED JUMPINGFROMA VERYYOUNGAGE internationally against all these people, and here’s my mother, who everyone knows, in her classic American accent calling me ‘Pumpkin.’ I just about died.” —MISSY RANSEHOUSEN ‘Well then, you get on and do it!’ And she would.” By the time Missy started moving up the levels under the tutelage of Karen O’Connor, Wash Bishop and Grant Schneidman, she and her mother both had packed training and competition schedules, and they rarely watched each other compete. Even if Missy could have traveled to her mother’s competitions, she stayed home to care for the family’s Blue Hill Farm in Unionville, Pa. Both were working toward championships that happened within days of each other—Jessica the 1988 Olympic Games in Seoul and Missy toward the FEI North American Young Rider Championship—so they couldn’t support one another in person. Jessica’s voice still swells with pride as she recalls the phone call from her daughter reporting that she’d won NAYRC. But of course, once the dust settled, she couldn’t resist a chance to try to convince her daughter to move back toward her sport. “After she won, I said, ‘Now just think, we could branch out, and you could do a little more serious dressage,’ ” says Jessica, 77. “She just looked at me and said, ‘Boring!’ ” After her third Olympic performance, Jessica focused on her new role as chef d’equipe for the U.S. dressage team and became a regular presence at her daughter’s competitions. She was there in England in the early ’90s when Missy debuted at the Blenheim CCI***. “My whole life my mom has called me ‘Pumpkin,’ ” says Missy. “And I’ll never forget, I’m in the warm-up area at Blenheim on dressage day, and my mother yells across the warm-up area to me, ‘Oh, Pumpkin!’ I just about died. It was my first time competing internationally against all these people, and here’s my mother, who everyone knows, in her classic American accent calling me ‘Pumpkin.’ ” Missy circled back to dressage in her 30s, competing two horses at Prix St. Georges but still balancing it with eventing. And she attended more than her share of pure dressage shows with Critical Decision—her mount for her thirdplaced finish at the 2008 Rolex Kentucky CCI****—to help him settle in during that phase. By then she’d also settled into her role as the coach of the U.S. para-dressage team, which she held for 13 years starting in 2000. She became involved with the sport thanks to student Hope Hand, who suggested Missy apply to coach the team. While Jessica supported her daughter, she wasn’t expecting her to tackle that # ( 2/ . / & ( / 2 3 % #/ - M AY/JUNE 2015 FEATURE role. After finishing third at Rolex, Missy was on track for a spot on the short list for the upcoming Olympic Games in Hong Kong, but she declined to pursue that opportunity because of her commitment to the team at the 2008 Paralympics. “For me, that was disappointing,” Jessica admits. “She should have done that. It would have been a perfect development of everything she’s done in the past. But I think she was very brave in her choice.” Missy and Jessica still help each other with students from time to time and fill in when the other is out of town. “For the longest time I’d always been Jessica’s daughter,” says Missy. “Every now and then she can be my mother. She’s a phenomenal person, and it’s great to be related to her. At times, when you’re younger, you want to stand on your own two feet, and you can’t. But I’m sure there have been times that it’s helped me when I’ve gone down centerline. I’m lucky to have her.” JOINING IN THE FUN: Marilyn, Doug and Holly Payne fter every cross-country run, siblings Doug and Holly Payne have an extra task, almost as important as cooling out their horses and checking their time. “They have to text me, as soon as they’re off cross-country,” says their mother, Marilyn Payne. “Either they themselves or a groom has to text me to tell me how it went. That started as soon as I learned how to text.” Her insistence is understandable. There aren’t an awful lot of parents with one four-star event rider as a child, let alone two. A well-rounded horsewoman with a special interest in the first phase of eventing, these days Marilyn, 66, serves as a busy four-star eventing judge and USEF S-level dressage judge. She’s officiated at the likes of the World Equestrian Games PHOTO COURTESY OF THE PAYNE FAMILY As children Doug and Holly Payne learned the basics FROMTHEIRMOTHER-ARILYNANDPONY 0OPCORN M AY/JUNE 2015 5 . 4!# + % $ and the Olympic Games—when she’s not running her Applewood Farm in Califon, N.J., with her husband Dick Payne. She plans her judging calendar with Doug’s competition schedule in one hand and Holly’s in the other, so she never misses a major competition, and a few longtime favorites like Millbrook Horse Trials (N.Y.) and Stuart Horse Trials (N.Y.) serve as annual family reunions. One of the most stressful days of her life came when Doug, 33, and Holly, 31, made their Rolex Kentucky CCI**** debut together in 2012. As luck would have it, a random draw sent them out on cross-country back-to-back. “I had a heart attack,” Marilyn recalls. “I was glued to the TV, because that’s the best place to be, but all the riders around me were laughing. Here I am screaming and laughing. Both of them got around safe, and it was great. “I’m not scared [at big events],” she continues. “They’re both good riders, and While Dick and Marilyn Payne (standing) encouraged their children TOEXPERIENCE LIFEOUTSIDETHEBARN AFTERCOMPETINGAS YOUNGRIDERSBOTH $OUG AND(OLLYSTILL BECAMEACCOMPLISHED PROFESSIONALHORSEMEN “Neither of us went to our college graduations—sentimental things most parents would care about. But at competitions she can get emotional.” —HOLLY PAYNE NANCY JAFFER PHOTO follow in her footsteps. “From the time we had our first pony, we knew that after we graduated high school, we’d sell whatever we had, and we were going to college to focus on that,” says they have good horses, and they don’t push Doug, New Hill, N.C. “Beyond that, it was them beyond what they can do. I know our decision. If we were going to do it, we they’ll take the time to get around safe. had to figure out how to make it happen.” But of course you still worry some, and you A few years into earning their degrees— want them to do well and be happy.” Doug in mechanical engineering from the Marilyn never anticipated both her Rochester Institute of Technology (N.Y.) children running at Rolex the same year; and Holly in finance at the University of she didn’t even think they would turn out North Florida—they both started schedulto be professional riders. Sure, she put a crib ing time in the saddle around their classes. in the barn when Doug was born, and for After graduation, Doug planned on becoma few years she always taught lessons with ing a forensic engineer in a police investigaa child strapped to her back. But her kids tion unit to finance riding as an amateur. were driven by friendly sibling rivalry more But as he waited for the bankrupted state than a pushy mother. Doug eschewed flat- to fund an academy class, he found himself work until his little sister started beating out-earning his fellow graduates thanks to him at competitions, and Holly used to set horses. And shortly after graduation, Holly increasingly difficult lines to practice over. was back in the galloping lanes, too, trainMarilyn supported them as they earned ing and riding in Gladstone, N.J. their A ratings from Somerset Hills Pony Once they’d decided to dedicate themClub (N.J.) with instructors like Roger selves to the sport, Marilyn became their Haller and Sally Ike, then went on to com- biggest cheerleader, encouraging Doug to pete at the FEI North American Junior get his dressage judge’s license at just 26 and Young Rider Championships. But she and lending a hand to Holly at events. wasn’t going to actively encourage them to Holly’s remained an important asset to her mother’s business, riding at the farm nearly every day and filling in when she’s out of town judging. And before a big event, Doug always tries to ride his dressage test for Marilyn to see where he can save a point or two. In turn, the kids inspired Marilyn to end her hiatus from competition. “We were driving home after an event, and they were laughing and joking about all the fun they’d had,” says Marilyn. “I said, ‘You know what? I’m sick and tired of you having all the fun. I love to compete. I’m going to get my own horse.’ ” That decision has brought the family even closer. A few times a year all three Paynes now compete at the same event together, most recently in March at the Carolina CIC, where Marilyn rode Safe Harbor to second behind her son in a section of opening training. “Neither of us went to our college graduations—sentimental things most parents would care about,” says Holly. “But at competitions she can get emotional, especially during the jog. I remember this fall at the [Dutta Corp.] Fair Hill CCI*** [Md.], when I was there riding [Never Outfoxed] around, she was tearing up.” # ( 2/ . / & ( / 2 3 % #/ - M AY/JUNE 2015 93 FEATURE GIVING ROOM TO GROW: ack in the late ’90s, DiAnn Langer had a rather difficult employee: her daughter Kirsten Coe. After aging out of the juniors, Coe had come back to work at Langtree, her mother’s Burbank, Calif., show stable. She’d built up an impressive résumé, including a win at the USEF Talent Search Medal Final (Calif.) on her mother’s grand prix jumper, Hearts Of Fire, and had big dreams for her future in the saddle. “She tried to take over my business, and I had to give her a half-halt or two,” recalls Langer, 67. “I think I fired her every week.” But Coe kept showing up anyway, getting her professional education while putting in long hours learning how to run a 50-horse operation. When Coe was born to Langer and her then-husband, western professional Matthew Coe, Langer quit horses for a year to focus on motherhood. When Kirsten started toddling around, Langer was determined to give her daughter a taste of life outside a barn, and so she dutifully drove her to gymnastics, tap dance, ballet and swimming lessons (where she sunk like a rock), but it was no use: Kirsten never imagined a day out of the tack. When it was clear that her daughter would be following in her footsteps, Langer made the conscious decision that she wanted to be Kirsten’s mother, not her trainer. “I strongly believe in that,” Langer says. “I’ve dealt with a lot of kids and their parents. I don’t care if it’s a professional’s child or anyone else’s. The parent must remember that they’re the support, and the M AY/JUNE 2015 5 . 4!# + % $ GLENNCAROL PHOTO DiAnn Langer and Kirsten Coe Kirsten Coe got her startINTHESADDLEEARLYTHANKSTOHERMOM$I!NN,ANGER trainer is the one who at that moment is in charge of what’s going on. The professional has to deal with the victories and defeats.” With that in mind, Langer shooed her daughter off to trainer Karen Healey when she neared her teenage years, but soon Kirsten began looking beyond California. For her last junior year she loaded a few horses on a trailer and headed east solo to create her own opportunities, riding for Andre Dignelli at Heritage Farm as well as Tom Wright, Missy Clark and McLain Ward. Then she decided she wanted to ride in Europe, so she moved to Germany to work for Markus Beerbaum and Meredith Michaels-Beerbaum. And in 2006, after an eight-year stint at her mother’s stable, Kirsten headed east again to work for Heritage Farm, going from a barn with 50 horses to one that took more than twice that many to every major horse show. She relished the opportunity and called home regularly for support over her five years there. “She tried to take over my business, and I had to give her a half-halt or two. I think —DIANN LANGER -/,,)%"!),%90(/4/ DiAnn Langer decided that she wanted to be her daughter’s mother, NOTHER TRAINERWHETHERSHEWASCOMPETINGINTHESHORT STIRRUPDIVISIONORWINNINGGRANDPRIXCLASSES “I came from grooming my own horses and making my own horses and trying to make them work, so I had no problem listening to how hard she had to work,” says Langer. “I didn’t care how many hours a day she was at the barn, how many days went by without a horse to get on. It’s a difficult time for all riders.” Kirsten started donning a pinque team coat in 2008—just as her mother had a few decades earlier—riding in Nations Cup competition and at multiple FEI World Cup Finals. Langer now serves as show jumping young rider chef d’equipe and technical advisor, and she’s chefed senior Nations Cup teams as well, though never for her daughter. “It’s not that the team was the goal,” Langer says. “It was, ‘Let’s try for [FEI North American Junior and Young Rider Championships],’ and once we did that, we’d say, ‘Let’s try to do the national junior jumper championship.’ As she achieved one goal, we’d set another one. It never occurred to me to be thinking about riding on the team before we’d done these other things.” Like Hill, Langer was never a calm customer watching her daughter compete, and also like Hill she’d frequently find herself ringside with Linda Hough, jumping every jump with their daughters in equitation classes. (They reunited in a box last year at Holiday and Horses [Fla.] to share in the stress as their daughters jumped in a grand prix.) These days Langer’s job with the USEF often requires her to leave her Red Acre Farm in Johnson, S.C., to attend many of the same shows as her daughter, so she gets to watch her compete regularly. “It takes time to develop the role that each of you play in the relationship,” says Kirsten, 34. “There are still days when I have a bad round, and she says something that will irritate me, but she almost always knows when to step back and when to push. “I still do everything like my mom,” continues Kirsten, who’s now based in Royal Palm Beach, Fla. “She taught me what hard work is. Sometimes my groom throws me out of the barn because I’m trying to do too much. We had a new groom who was freaking out because I was cleaning. It’s just how I was raised.” But tidy tack trunks aren’t what keeps mother and daughters close enough that they talk on the phone several times a day. “I’m most proud of the person she’s become,” said Langer. “She’s principled, she has integrity, and she’s just a good person. I’m proud of her when she wins, and I think every parent is proud of their kid when they succeed at what they’re trying to accomplish. But the best part is that she’s a cool person.” # ( 2/ . / & ( / 2 3 % #/ - M AY/JUNE 2015