Letter To Margaret - May 20, '03

Hi Margaret,

Well I thought that I ought to take a minute and relay a couple of stories that you might find interesting.

Joe Miller was a top trainer of quarter horses and then made the switch to Thoroughbreds and became one of the top trainers at the Denver race track.  I believe the track was called "Centennial" and was actually located in Littleton - it has been gone a long, long time.  His career was that of cattle buyer - I guess he traded livestock for a living.

One summer (late 1960s) mom and dad came out to Colorado to visit with us and Ann's family - evidently to also look for a business to buy.  He made an offer on a Denver Liquor store but backed out of the deal when he learned that it had been robbed about 12 times and could not be insured.  I was very relieved because I could just imagine that most of the profits would have been consumed rather than banked!

While visiting with us, Dad mentioned his cousin Agnes and her husband Joe were racing down in Denver so he was going to go see them. I had the feeling that Dad had a special place in his heart for this cousin and her husband. In the meantime, Sharon got all excited about a chance to see the thoroughbreds up close and personal, so dad made arrangements for us to go watch a workout - I think we got up about 4:00 in the morning in order to drive to Littleton just to was a couple of horses jog around the track. While we were at the track Joe and Agnes showed us a couple of yearlings that Joe had just bought - it was obvious that Agnes had a strong attachment to one of the colts. A few months later I heard from dad that Joe had walked behind Agnes' new colt and startled it - the horse kicked him in the head, killing him instantly. It was a complete shock to all of us that this man who lived around livestock all his life would have made such a simple mistake. Until your letter, I never heard another word about Agnes and their training stable. By the way I thought the training stable was somewhere in Colorado north of Berthood.

Switching to another era.

When I was in high school I applied for a Navy ROTC scholarship along with about 1/2 of the seniors in San Diego County. We all had to trek up to somewhere in the LA area for the physical and a day of testing and interviews. At the end of each test or interview you would learn if you had made it to the next level. I did pretty well, making it all the way to the final interview. When I walked into the room, a big Navel officer stuck out his hand and said, "Hi, you must be Swede Olander's boy!" I looked at him blankly and said that I didn't think so. He then told me that I had two uncles, one was called Lefty, my dad was called Swede, and the other brother was called ......  I was so shocked to meet a person in California that knew more about my family than I did that I can't remember what he said Virg's nickname was. It turned out that this guy had attended CU at the same time the boys were at Colorado Teacher's College and remembered them well from their athletic exploits. Needless to say, with me being unable to regain my composure the interview went down hill from that point and I didn't get the scholarship.

And one last "nickname" story. Admittedly we are not the most, ah, shall I say photogenic family. It seems that at one of the boy's basketball games a fan from the opponents started heckling Virgil. The guy was riding him pretty hard but then made the mistake of shouting "Hey, horseface........." Virg and the boys immediately entered the stands and needless to say the fight was on. But according to dad, no one ever referred to Virg that way again.

Take care,
Cousin Rog