Triumph of memories

I cried while announcing the winner of the Appaloosa Western Pleasure class yesterday. As an old, hard-nosed English teacher and journalist, I know better than to let my emotions play into my professional responsibilities. As a horse show announcer, I normally follow that same guideline, but yesterday was something special.

"First place goes to No. 92, Easy Dream Design, ridden by Laurie Tibbs and owned by Bill and Marianne Love," I announced with a quavering voice. I could hardly contain those emotions while listing off the other five places. I should not have gotten so emotional, but so many poignant and longtime memories went into that moment that I just couldn't help myself.

On this Monday morning, if my Miss Lily never wins another ribbon, that's okay. Yesterday's triumph in her first horse show covered most of a lifetime and will continue to resonate beautifully for the rest of my life. To some people, horse show ribbons are like notches on the gun, i.e., winnings for personal satisfaction, self esteem or maybe even superiority.

Granted, I fit in that category. I love to win, always have. We're a competitive family who do not like to lose, but we've also learned over the years that there's just as much gained in losing as in winning. It's all in the perspective.

In yesterday's case, I feel good that we own a beautiful young horse, gifted with unbelievable potential in the show ring. Depending on what we decide to do with her, she could go on to amass a roomful of trophies and ribbons and lovely moments in the spotlight, but, in my mind, nothing will ever compare to yesterday.

I've always loved looking for the connections and tying them together as a way of assessing a shining moment. In this case, the connections seem almost endless, and Miss Lily served as the conduit. Here's why.

I bought her from Oklahoman Royce Crosby (the subject of one of my Appaloosa Journal stories) as a way of honoring our dad Harold Tibbs' memory. After all, long ago, the year after I was born, Harold made history riding an Appaloosa in a show ring. He and his horse Toby are known throughout the world for winning the performance championship in the first-ever National Appaloosa Show in 1948.

So, Lily reminds us of Harold, who's been gone five years now. We look at Lily and we remember all that he instilled in us throughout our lives about horsemanship, taking care of animals and the appreciation for any beautiful horse with a good mind and common sense.

When I purchased Easy Dream Design, I asked Royce what he called her for a barn name.

"Oh, I just call her 'Girl,'" he said.

Knowing that, I jumped at the opportunity to attach our own name to her. From that point on, she would be known as "Lily" in honor of the grandmother I never knew and the mother my mother knew for only three years.

Lily Short Halter died from a stomach ailment shortly after Thanksgiving in 1924 near Wallace, Idaho, where her husband Frank had recently moved her and their two daughters, Virginia and June. That was far away from the bustling city of Chicago where they had lived before moving from Idaho.

My mother never knew much about her mother Lily until the early '90s when Bill and I met some Chicago relatives briefly at O'Hare Airport. Before we boarded our plane to Washington, D.C., my mother's cousin Rae handed me an envelope. Inside was a letter my grandmother Lily had written to her family on Thanksgiving Day two weeks before she died.

I read that letter over the phone to my mother from our hotel room in Washington a few hours later. She told me that moment was the first real connection she'd ever had to her mother since losing her at such a young age. There remains a mystique in our family about this lady we never knew, this lady who penned two manuscripts which were long ago lost and never published.

Somehow, Lily seemed like a perfect name for this horse, already destined to represent some powerful memories for our family. And, like her namesake she went to a far away place from Southern Oklahoma where she was born. So, we've called her Lily ever since she arrived here in December, 2006, and she seems to enjoy responding to it whenever she hears us call.

Shortly after her arrival, Annie came home for Christmas with her nice camera and snapped several photos of this beautiful animal, transplanted from the grasslands of Southern Oklahoma to the snows of Northern Idaho. One particularly striking head shot of Lily sniffing at plastic poinsettias in the snow was chosen for the 2008 Appaloosa calendar.

Years ago, I remember so vividly walking into Sandpoint High School one evening and spotting a young man standing next to my classroom door. He was tiny at the time, and his first comment to me as I unlocked the door was, "I want to learn about horses." At the time, he went by the moniker "Skeeter." Nowadays, at almost 44, he's a tremendously successful horse trainer, and most folks know him as Monty Collison.

I still have a hard time calling him Monty because I know the Skeeter who never once lost sight of what he wanted to do in this world. It all revolved around horses. I remember Skeeter riding one of our family's last Appaloosas, Sassy, as his 4-H project. My sisters were chuckling last night about the morning Skeeter came knocking at the door of our North Boyer home before anyone had gotten out of bed.

My dad heard the knock, went to the front door, saw him standing there, and asked him what he wanted.

"I'm here, ready to go to the horse show," he said matter-of-factly. So, eventually everyone got up and they all went to the horse show with Skeeter. We all considered him a member of the family, and were honored at our dad's funeral when he came to be with us as family before the service began.

Therefore, it seemed fitting for Skeeter aka Monty to train our filly Lily. So he did, and masterfully so. Since then, Laurie has been riding her nearly every day and keeping Monty informed on her progress.

Two days before this weekend's horse show, Monty's father Ron died after a long battle with cancer. Ron and Linda were wonderful parents to their son and daughter, always supportive of whatever they wanted to do.

Again, Barbara and Laurie told last night of the time Ron rented a U-Haul trailer so his son could go to the horse show in Bonners Ferry. Ron sat for hours at horse shows, and while his son rode in the arena, Ron read Louis L'Amour novels.

When yesterday's results to that Appaloosa Western Pleasure class came to the announcer's stand for me to read off, I could not help but think of my dad, my grandmother, my daughter, our family's longtime love of good horses, and our dear friend Monty who had just lost his wonderful dad Ron. I dedicated that first win of Lily's to Monty and his dad.

Love, reverance and precious memories converged in that instant. Miss Lily won a first place, but she also created a touching montage of family history, making the moment one to cherish forever.