Evening Star Newspaper, June 22, 1930, Page 79

THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D. 5 e - - — Laughs at Death in “SUICIDE CLUB” Dallett (Dolly) Byers, World-Fa- mous Steeplechase Rider of the Wide-= ner Stables, Un- afraid of the Risky Jumps in a Thrill- ing Sport That Has Claimed a Long List of “Killed in Action.” BY C. WILLIAM DUNCAN. ACETRACK followers call the steeple- chase riders the “Suicide Club,” but to Dolly Byers that’s 'all foolishness. Dolly has been jumping for the Joseph E. Widener stables for 14 years and in that time has sustained numerous broken collarbones, a few fractured ribs and a broken arm or so. Often Death has stretched out his hand for Dolly, but the crack rider is a nimble fellow and so far has always escaped just in time. Many of his associates have not been so fortunate, and the list of jumpers “killed in action” is a long one. I wasn’t a bit surprised when Mr. Widener's star rider—one of the best in the world—told me he couldn’t see anything dangerous in his calling. Ralph de Palma told me that he had absolutely no fear of hitting 120 miles an hour in an important automobile race, Doc Taylor, when a parachute jumper for the U. S. S. Sara- toga, opined that any man was foolish to be a deep-sea diver, but that jumping off airplanes into space, just to test parachutes, was indeed & safe and splendid calling. In hundreds of interviews I have found that men of this type have less fear of death than the average business man. Fach admits that another’s feats may involve great risks, but refuses to concede that his own work is bhazardous. ‘The record of this steeplechase Jockey looks like Ty Cobb's in base ball, Bill Tilden's in tennis or Bobby Jones’ in golf. He led the country in 1918, 1921 and 1928 in percentages of victories. He created a national record in 1928 by compiling an average of 50 per cent. Here are the figures: Year Mounts 1st 2d 3d Unplaced P.C. 1918 49 16 9 12 12 33 1921 48 15 11 8 14 31 1928 31 15 4 3 4 50 Byers’ record in 1928 is the best recorded in the American Racing Manual, which contains the official figures since 1905. That year Dolly rode without a fall, even in schooling—a re- markable feat in itself. H JEFFCOAT led the steeplechase Jjockeys * in percentage of victories in 1929, but Dolly was first in money won. .Of the latter, the Manual says: “From the standpoint of money won by mounts in 1929, Beyers surpassed all others with $43,815. Byers has been for a long time one of the best steeplechase riders in the coun- try. The name of another noted steeplechase rider—R. H. Crawford—is missing from the records of 1929.” The Temple-Gwathmey Memorial Steeple- chase, at Belmont Park, is one of the year's biggest races. Byers won it with MacCarthy Moore in '25, with Fairmount in 26, '27 and '28 and with Arc Light in '29. Another important one is the Manly Memorial, at Pimlico. Byers has come in first there in seven out of eleven years. He rode Duettiste in,'19 and '20, Lizard in "25, Fairmount in '26, Lizard again in '27 and Arc Light in '28 and '29. Byers’ one regret is that he has never placed first in the Grand National. Second is his best record there, and a first place would round out one of the most outstanding careers of any rider in the history of steeplechase races in the United States. I talked to Byers at the beautiful Widener racing farm, located in Elkins Park, a few miles north of Philadelphia. He is a slimly built chap of 33 and has the thin face and keen eyes so typical of the jockey. “Do you consider yourself as a member of a ‘Suicide Club'?” I asked him, He laughed. “No, I don't. Why, I never think of death when I'm riding. I never even think of being hurt. My mind’s on the race at all times and it has to be. If a steeplechase rider forgets to think it’s just too bad for him, because things happen in a fraction of a sec- ond in our sport. He has to be looking ahead at all times, thinking about what he's going to do when he reaches the next fence or the fence after that. “I've had falls, plenty of them. I've had busted collarbones, broken ribs and so on. I've been trampled on by horses while lying on the ground atter a spill. In Canada a horse trampled on me plenty and I was laid up in a hospital for a stretch. But, say, when I was lying on the ground I didn’t have time to think of being killed or anything like that. Every- thing happened too quickly. You don’t have time to think much. You must act.” Spectators and newspaper men thought Dolly was mortally hurt in 1923 when a dispatch in a New York newspaper said: “D. Byers and C. W. Kennedy, steeplechase jockeys, were seriously injured in the running in yesterday's steeplechase at Aqueduct and there was reason to believe last night that Byers may have been fatally injured internally. Kennedy suffered a broken collarbone. Byers had the leg up on J. E. Widener's Loyterer, which fell at the fifth fence. The rider was thrown under the horse, which rolled over his abdomen and legs.” “How about that?” I asked, pointing to the that a great horse like Duettiste has to quit. He's down there in that field today—pen- sioned by Mr. Widener for life. He's taking it easy, and I guess he knows he deserves a rest. What a horse! “I consider Fairmount the second-best horse I ever rode, and Arc Light third. “I'd like to ride some horse to victory in the Grand National because I've won every - race of importance in the country except the Grand National, th= Harbor Hill at Aqueduct and the Governor at Laurel.” THE steeplechase season opens in the Spring at Pimlico, Md., with Belmont Park and Aqueduct following in succession. This year the Arlington Park schedule at Chicago, June 30 to August 1, called for steeplechase races for the first time. The dates for Saratoga An unusual picture of a bad steeplechase spill, illustrating some of the hazards of this game, which jockeys refer to as the “Suicide Club.” newspaper article in his scrapbook. “Wasn't . that a close call?” “Oh, yes,” he answered nonchalantly. “But I got over that in a hurry.” “Is steeplechase riding more difficult than erdinary racing?” I asked. “Certainly,” he replied. “It takes more skill, more nerve and a quicker brain to be a steeple- chase rider than it does for ordinary pony rac- ing. Pigure it out for yourself. We not only run on the level, but jump fences, ditches and everything else. The other kind of riding is a cinch beside ours. “See that horse over' there in the meadow,” sald Dolly, pointing to a field about 300 yards away. “Well, that's ggettb‘tc. the greatest horsz I ever rode. I rode him against a big field in the Manly Memorial Pimlico, in 1919. He carried 173 pounds and won the race. Beat that.” A touch of wistfulness came into the star jockey’s eyes when he added: “It's too bad Handicap, at Springs are July 30 to August 30: Belmont Park, September 1 to 17; Aqueduct, September 18 to October 4; Laurel, October 7 to No- vember 1; Pimlico, November 4 to November 15; United Hunts, Belmont Park, November 8 to November 11. The Grand National is run at the September meeting at Belmont and the Temple-Gwathmey Memorial at the United Hunts, Belmont Park. That - the requisites of a good steeplechase jockey are numerous is borne out by the fact that there is a scarcity of topnotchers in the game today. W. C. Vreeland, New York writer, says: “There would be a greater number of men and women going in for steeplechasing as patrons than there are at present if it were not for the dearth of good riders. “I've heard men declare: “I would like to have two or three good jumpers, for I love the game, but where, ch, where can I get a jockey to handle them? Joseph E. Widener has the best jockey, Dolly Byers. There is not much left. Rt It is practically a one-jockey game..So what’s the use?” “And good as Byers is,” continued Mr. Vree- land, “he is the result of trairing and advice. J. Howard Lewis, trainer of a string of steeple- chase horses, is responsible for the excellent rid- ing ability of Byers.” Dolly, whose real name is Dallett, agrees with the writer. “J. Howard Lewis taught me all I know,” he confirmed. Albert Johnson was a keen rider. He won the Kentucky Derby thrice. He rode' Morvich the day that horse won and piloted Exterminator, familiarly called “Old Slim,” in that classic and came home galloping. Then he whacked Bub- bling Over around the oval in front of the best horses in America. y JOHNSON is a close friend: of W. Fred Ford, Phuudelph[a racing expert, who has this to say about him: “I remember one day Johnson won the Preak- ness when it was divided into two races. He won with that great filly, Sally’s Alley, and then with Blossom Time, another filly. Both paid better than 20 to 1. “That grim ghost, weight, climbed aboard Johnson and, try as he might, he could mot shake it off. Then he joined the ‘Suicide Club.’ “He won his first race as a steeplechaser— gave a brilllant exhibition. I was thrilled. Here was a rival for Crawford and Byers. He rode laughing at fate with the same desperate courage that stamped his feats as a’ flat rider, I talked with the oldtimers. I made ‘whoopee’ that night, for my pal was the new sensation of the jumps The oldtimers said: ‘Wait un- . til he clips a jump going 40 miles an hour and turns turtle with his horse. Then we'll see how he rides the next time out.’ : “It wasn't a question of courage. The old- timers all knew that Johnson had plenty of neart. But the spills do something to all of them. One lad can stand them and another one can't. “Johnson went down later. Ridirg like a demon, he fell at the fourth jump of the race. He arose grinning and said: ‘I'm out of the Suicide Club. No more for Little Albert.’ “He has kept his word, yet no one questions his courage.” Each time there is a steeplechase race at Saratoga, or any of the other tracks, for that matter, back of the little grean trecs or behind a board fence is stationed the little white wagon with the golden bell and “angel” in it. It is the ambulance, and the “angel,” of course, is the nurse. If you want a thrill, go to a track the day of a jumping race when the rain is falling in torrents, the grass is like ice under the colts’ feet and the mud is like so much glazed ice, and watch these stars of the saddle take their lives in their hands. Many of them don't.get away with it. In May of this year Alfred Williams, riding as a free lance, was killed at Pimplico. Two of his brothers are still riding. H. R. Crawford, con- sidered an exceptionally fine prospect, met his death last year. The records of steeplechase races are replete with fatal accidents. (Copyright, 1930.)