Emily Fewster is an exercise rider and former jockey. The current version of Pimlico will close August 31.

“Pimlico is more than a dirt track bound by four streets. It is an accepted American institution devoted to the best interests of a great sport, graced by time, respected for its honorable past.” Alfred G. Vanderbilt

It was 1999 the first time I walked on to the backside of Pimlico. The grandstand and the track itself echoed with the hoofbeats of greatness. You could feel it.

I was riding out the other morning, and I realized that this is the end of an era. As I saw the day’s last remaining horses training, I had to pause and take in the beautiful grandstand, the perfect turf course, and the lovely original dirt surface. Maybe it’s just another day at the office for the horses and people still here, but it is also historical. They are the last – and luckiest? – of the hoofbeats to thrum across the racetrack at Old Hilltop. 

It’s one of those places where you can close your eyes and step back in time. You can practically see the shimmering, sleek bodies of racing’s elite through the decades. You can feel their power and see their clouds of breath puff against the cool early morning air.  

I closed my eyes for a second and took a deep, slow breath. It was a few years ago, and the sky was just waking up with the promise of sunrise.The grandstand was silent first thing in the morning, a silence broken only by the faint footsteps of trainers watching sets, murmured conversations, and clicking of the stopwatch from the clocker sitting in the grandstand seats. 

I opened my eyes and felt the same warm sunshine on my face from the same direction, and I smiled. It did take me back in time. All the faces, all the names, comings and goings on pony and on foot, a morning’s chatter over a steaming cup of coffee, the flow of laughter as old friends reconnected.

Barns were full not just with horses but also with friends, mentors, and competitors. It was the season of the great and those they brought along coming up quickly behind them. Still many are around today, those that have stayed tried and true to the game and the support of Pimlico, Maryland racing, and its surrounding communities.

 As I walked around that morning and visited the last remaining folks of Pimlico, I realized the love and the laughter are still here, just in shorter supply. Fewer friends, fewer horses, less activity, a community, almost, rendered nonexistent. 

But its heart still beats.  

The opportunities that this old, rundown place offered so many – myself included – are innumerable. I will be forever grateful for the  dark chilly winter mornings, and the long summer days, that I spent galloping, breezing, racing and riding, working alongside some truly great horsemen and women.

This place may be a political football to some, a dump to others, an economic resource or a historical artifact. But to some of us it’s home. My fingers are crossed for its future, and our sport’s. 

Thank you, Old Hilltop, for being a keeper of memories, a safe haven for many, and the best place in the world for a skinny, horse-crazy kid that wanted to go racing.

EMILY’S PIMLICO

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