The author, now 85, watches his horses at Florida's Hialeah. He has trained more stake winners than any other trainer in history, and his Irish Jay could be I960'* Derby winner. Hialeah honors him Friday on his 75th anniversary in racing. A lesson I learned from life by SUNNY JIM PITZSIMMONS Bold Ruler, a trainer. Others champion of a few years ago, is fed by its Fill trained: Nashua, Gallant Fox, Omaha. Y OUNG PEOPLE often ask me for advice, and I'm glad to give it. There's one thing I always tell them: Don't ever lose a friend--no matter what sacrifice you may have to make. To keep a friend, I once came close to ending up in a hospital, yet to this day 1 have never regretted it. "It happened in 1894, when I was 20 years old and doing odd jobs at the Alexandria Island race track in Washington, D.C. I had been a jockey, and not the world's worst either. However, now I weighed 120 pounds, too heavy to ride. But one day an old friend, Bill Mosby, a trainer who was down on his luck, came and begged me to ride a horse named Luray. "I got somebody who says he'll bet on Luray--and put a bundle on him for me," said Bill. "But he'll only bet on the horse if you ride. Do me a favor and ride Luray, Jim. I need that money to get me started again." "What's the weight limit?" I asked. "You'll have to lose eight pounds," lie said. "When's the race?" "Tomorrow." I came close to fainting. But I knew the horse had a good chance. And I knew Bill needed the money. First I took a long, full swallow of Epsom salts. Then I flopped down and tried to sleep. I was up at dawn--sick and groggy. Nevertheless, I got on all the horses at hand and exercised them like thunder. Dripping with sweat, I put on all the sweaters I could find and walked from Washington to Alexandria, Va., and back--a good six miles. On (lie way home, I stopped at a brickyard and stood as close to a hot furnace as I could. Sweat poured into my shoes. But I managed to shovel a pile of coal into the furnace. Then I walked back to the track and got under a stack of blankets. There couldn't have been an ounce of water in me when I got on the scales. But I made the weight -with two pounds to spare. In less than a day ) had lost 10 pounds. I was weak as a baby riding Luray. We reached the far turn well back but slowly made up ground. We won by a head. Mosby collected over 51,000, enough to put him right back in business. I won $75 in prize money that day. But whenever I met Bill Mosby after that, I knew I had won something a lot more than money--one man's unending friendship. Â· THE S U N D A Y P I C T U R E M A G A Z I N E ' JESS CORKIN, K.litor Donald Wayne ManaRinR Editor Lou Sardella AT! Director Morton Yarmon, Associate Managing Kditor Robert P. Goldman Edwin Kiester. Jr. Charles H. Klensch Ajjoriafc Editors A R T H U R H. MOTLEY, Prnidcnt ,,,,d Pahlithcr Olga Curtis, H'omrn'i Erfi.nr John Devaney, Sporrs Editor Douglas R. Steinbauer, Assistant An Director Demetria Taylor, Home Economic* Oircrlnr Virginia Pope, Fashion Editor Jack Anderson, Fred Blumenthal, Washintlon Jmrraii Lloyd Shearer, U'csl Coasl bureau I'J59, PARADE Publication!, Inc., 28! Maifi- on Arc., N, n . Vort 17, IV. V. All nslm rr- mc,l under International ,,,,,, p a , American Ojnyrislil Coni-cnllons. ncfrnduction in wlwlc Â«' in ,,arl of any article ii-fllmilt pcrmijjfon " nrolrHiilcd. PAHAIEÂ«; Alarm Â«Â·Â«.
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