Derby Day  - editorial & photo by Laura L. Flynn

May 1, 2010 - Today being ‘Derby Day’ has flooded my mind with memories of this day last year. As a newbie to Churchill Downs, I was honestly overwhelmed. Never in my life have I ever experienced anything like it. And as you read this, maybe you will understand -- just maybe.

First, as you negotiate the traffic at 8 in the morning, the first thing you see is every yard, lawn and open space within a five-mile radius has turned into a parking lot. Happy, smiling faces everywhere lined our route as people walked, bicycled or drove.

My first reaction, as we weaved our way to the drop-off area in front of the majestic Churchill Downs – was a jaw-dropping “WOW.”

Thousands of people were already streaming though the entrance gates and even though I had grouched earlier about leaving so early for the track, I now understood why. Looking at the already swelling crowd, I thought, ugh this is going to be a nightmare. But, within minutes I realized that the people at Churchill Downs were on the ball and absolutely knew how to handle a crowd like this. Smiles and absolute courtesy greeted us every step of the way. And believe it or not, as the crowds continued to swell and the day moved on at a snail’s pace, I never once witnessed or experienced anything but true ‘Southern Hospitality.’ My beautiful, expensive, hat goes off to them.

As one walks through Churchill Downs you can feel the emotion behind the traditions, the history of past glories, defeats, sorrow envelop you. They say Churchill Downs is haunted – perhaps – but I didn’t feel haunted, I felt elated, great joy and excitement, which I attribute to the unique ambiance of Churchill and the Kentucky Derby.

Everywhere I looked I saw colors and beauty beyond compare. Churchill itself is majestic; no other word can describe it. The infield was alive with derby party goers, it was just one big riot of color, flags, banners and flowers of every description. And the people in the paddock, grandstands and clubs were spectacular – everyone smiling, having fun and dressed to the hilt! I felt like I was in a movie – really!

Many books have been written on the traditions of the Kentucky Derby if you are interested, for the sake of space I will only touch on two; Mint Juleps – Sip slowly and, Yes, you will have chills running up your spine as 150,000-plus people, stand and sing “My Old Kentucky Home.” I don’t care where you’re from.

As the minutes ticked down to the ‘Derby’ I made my way through the throng of humanity toward the paddock. After all, I was there to do a job, and my job was to photograph the 50-to-1 longshot, Mine That Bird.

Upon my arrival I thought no-way! Fear of failing my friends gripped me. Too many people, I’ll never get close enough. Under normal circumstances, I would have had a paddock pass, but at the ‘Derby’ you better be a contender’s owner or a movie star. Well I was neither, so I did the next best thing, I resorted to begging.

I want to be very clear here ‘Southern Hospitality’ saved my career. As I excused my way to a couple on the fence next to the tunnel entrance to the paddock, I introduced myself and asked if I could step in front of them for a few shots of Mine That Bird. They looked at the multitude of passes hanging around my neck and my camera and kindly consented. As we waited, our conversation turned to the race and who was going to win. Of course by now I was on such a ‘Derby’ high that all I could say was Mine That Bird. Who? They asked as they thumbed their program. No way he’s 50-1. The more I talked, the more they stared at me, then a glance at the tote board, back to their program, then back at me shaking their heads.

Well, by the time the field started to file through the tunnel to the paddock we had quite a little group circled around talking about Mine That Bird, and my sanity. I took my shots, thanked them and moved farther down the fence, closer toward the paddock, begging as I went for more shots and getting strange looks, but kindness prevailed.

Miles from my seat I decided to find the winner’s circle. Upon my arrival, a very nice attendant informed me that the winner’s circle for the Derby was in the infield. More tradition: once a year and only on Derby Day is the infield winner’s circle opened and only for the winner of the Kentucky Derby.

Too late to change my course, I scanned the grandstands for televisions. None. No televisions hung from the rafters at Churchill Downs. Ok, no problems, there are two giant screens in the infield. I’m good! More tradition: As the horses entered the gate everyone, man, woman and child stood on their chairs. What? Are you kidding me? I couldn’t see a thing. Despair rolled over me like a tidal wave. Then I heard a voice – I closed my eyes and pictured the race in my mind as the track announcer made his historical call. “It’s the Eight!” “It’s the Eight!” “It’s the Eight!” I raised my camera as high as I could, aimed at one of the big infield screens and clicked my camera.

Did I feel the mud coat my new $100 high-heeled sandals? Did I stumble in the uneven grass sod of the infield winner’s circle? Nope.

Were my first few shots after the race blurred, and did I have to make myself breathe, so I could steady my camera? Yep!

Hours passed before I saw the race replay on a small television in the reception area of the Kentucky Derby museum. As I sat down to peel my now, dried, mud-caked, $100, high-heeled sandals off my aching feet, I cried and cheered as Calvin Borel and Mine That Bird scored one of the biggest upsets in Kentucky Derby history.

As I walked in my stocking feet to our waiting car, I was greeted by a group of Derby-goers who I had met on the paddock fence. They had stayed to thank me for the tip, because of their southern kindness to a ‘Derby Newbie,’ their pockets overflowed with Derby winnings.