Plus ça change . . .

I spend more time trolling the New Yorker archive than I spend reading the magazine that arrives in my mailbox each week. I like to think that I've read all of Audax Minor's (Minor was the pen name of George F. T. Ryall) columns at least once, and many of them multiple times. His assessment of the three-year-old crop will sound familiar to us all, and enjoy his mention of Seabiscuit v War Admiral, too.

I offer you, then, without further comment, Ryall's column (post Travers, at the time) from August 21, 1937.

"Occasionally you can have a pretty satisfactory race with unsatisfactory horses. Shandon Farm’s Burning Star, who isn’t one of the Class A three-year-olds, put up such a good show in winning the Travers Stakes at Saratoga last weekend that almost everyone, particularly everyone who bet on him, was enthusiastic enough to place him at the top of the list. It takes so little to lose a race, and Burning Star really overcame so much to win. He was crowded soon after the start, blocked during the run down the backstretch, and finally had to barge his way home on the rails on the turn for home. It was a gallant feat. I can’t imagine, even with my crystal ball and ouija board, what detained him when he was beaten so cleverly by Rex Flag in the Kenner Stakes four days before.

After the Travers was over, War Admiral was brought out, grown sleeker with easy living during his temporary retirement. He evidently believed he was going to the races again, for he wouldn’t stand still to be saddled, but lunged and plunged as though eager to join his old playmates, the assistant starters. Although he has recovered from his mishap in the Belmont Stakes, War Admiral is still in cotton wool so far as training goes. He won’t be ready to run for the Saratoga Cup, and his appearance even in the Lawrence Realization Stakes is doubtful, although he could win that race on crutches. 

These brittle thoroughbreds! Looking through the rats’ nest I call my past performance book, the other day I found a rating of the three-year-olds of 1937, compiled about January 1st by the official leading handicappers. Reading from left to right, War Admiral and Pompoon are resting; Brooklyn, Reaping Reward, Case Ace, Bottle Cap, and Maedic are out of training, and so are Fairy Hill, Clodion, No Sir, and Moonton. Of Matey and Airflame, the less said the better. Privileged may improve. At twenty-fifth on the list, I found Flying Scot, who did so well before he spread a foot. Clingendaal, who picked up so many purses here and there in New England, was thirtieth, and Burning Star wasn’t even considered important enough to have a rating at all. 

While we’re still on the subject of first-class horses, here’s a tip that race cource managements with meetings late in the autumn can take for what it’s worth: The Howards, who own Seabiscuit, wouldn’t mind running their horse in a match race against War Admiral. The only difficulty about that--outside the purse--is that they would peg the distance at one mile and a quarter, although they’d really prefer a match at one mile and a furlong. I don’t know what Sam Riddle thinks about such a race, but I’m sure that if he thinks about it at all, he’d insist on the distance being set at one mile and a half."


On the next page, toward the end of Minor/Ryall’s comments on harness racing, he concludes with a kind of Seen At column:

And at Saratoga: Mrs. Sam Riddle leaning over the rails to pat War Admiral. . . Bob Smith admiring the Man o’ War Gold Cup . . . The autograph hunters following the cinema stars . . . The Milky Way Farm’s grooms parading in new orange, white, and black jumpers . . . Jock Whitney trying to get through the crowd that blocked the clubhouse stairs . . . George Bull counting the biggest crowd at the Saratoga track . . . Colonel Martingale is getting tired of steeplechases for unsound and uncertain horses. He’s thinking of starting a Stop-Running-Steeplechases Week. --Audax Minor

If you're a New Yorker subscriber, you too can browse all of Ryall's work via their archive. This particular column runs pages 52-54 in August 21, 1937 issue.

The White Turkey Inn, Danbury, CT part 1

I'm the first to admit that I develop little obsessions. I think, as a person who really enjoys creating--whether it's putting together an ensemble, preparing a complicated meal, making a "love" collage or researching a project--it's easy to allow ourselves to develop more than a passing interest in small and seemingly obsessive details. When I worked in a small history museum, I'd spend entire days thumbing through the old local newspapers or boxes of family history papers to help flesh out a provenance, anecdote, or story.

I'll also admit that I've been a New Yorker reader/fanatic for most of my life. There's still a pile or two of them in my old bedroom in Minnesota and I can't resist looking through any old copies that I find in an old bookstore or antiques shop. I've spent hours reading over old The Race Track columns written by Audax Minor (the pen name of George F. Ryall, a Canadian writer) wherein he not only discussed the horses, but he'd describe with delicious detail both the high society and nearly ubiquitous Runyonesque racing aficionados. I know I have only scratched the surface of all the columns, but delving into these vignettes of the horse world--from the 1930s and 40s especially--is not only educational and entertaining, it's downright interesting.

On one such (likely rainy) afternoon, I'd been reading through the New Yorker digital archive and happened upon this advertisement near one of the columns on polo or horse racing.

Hmmm, I thought. How intriguing. Like something out of Holiday Inn or Christmas in Connecticut, no doubt. A classic New England inn, close enough to NY City for day trips, but far enough out to realize you are not in NYC, either. Living in the area and being a complete fanatic of that sort of idealized old New England, I began to conjure up all kinds of images in my mind. I wasn't sure I'd be able to find out much more about the establishment, let alone find images of what it might have looked like, so I just started to dig a little deeper in the New Yorker Archive.

Throughout the 30s and 40s and even into the 50s, the New Yorker would do small articles on dining out at inns or supper clubs that were within an hour or so of the city. At certain times of the year (noticeably summer and autumn) they would include trips that were farther afield and had broader dining suggestions.

Showing up in many of these round-ups or at times in the Supper Clubs section of the Goings On About Town pages, was The White Turkey Inn. 

In this mention from the August 20th issue of 1938, the inn is mentioned both in the front Goings On area (under the title "Pleasant places here and there along the road for dinner--without dancing--while motoring) and later on in a piece about restaurants.  (click on either clip to enlarge and read)

     

I do love when one of my little obsessions is validated...clearly The White Turkey Inn in Danbury--and it's sister restaurants in the W Village and Midtown--were both popular and important once upon a time. 

More on my findings and the fun I've had along the way in the coming days. Especially with little footnote stories like this, the journey is all the fun and there is real joy in discovery. Hope you'll want to join me for the rest of my little sojourn into the history of The White Turkey Inn.