Aloha

Five races left. The paddock staff started counting down thirty-three races ago.

One of the regular patrons gave leis to the security guards and some of her friends.














My two home boys, Chrystopher and Jay.
















Jim kept the riffraff out of the paddock. Anyone who thought they were somebody tried to get a pass into the grassy area beneath the trees where the horses are saddled and jockeys get their last minute instructions from the trainer.

Jim let Dad in where he got to see McLaughlin saddle one of his horses. Dad placed a two dollar bet on Stream of Gold and later took photos of the horse in the winner circle. A memorable day for Dad and me.

Jim also put the fear of God into any can pickers who tried to collect aluminum cans before the end of the eight race.


Grace is a rapper who works six months out of the year at the track. Soft-spoken kid with a big heart and smart head.














And then there were no more races. Most of the horses had already been shipped out to other tracks when this guy was running in the eleventh race. Just before I got into the car to drive away I turned back toward the barns and spotted him. With my telephoto I waited for him to come back around and when he did, he looked right at me.

Aloha!