Beth Harpham lives in southern Chester County, Pennsylvania, and hunts with Mr Stewart's Cheshire Foxhounds. This is her story:
For as many years as I can remember, Gerry Hoover has been the field master for Mr Stewart’s Cheshire Foxhounds during the summer exercises known variously as ‘hound walking’ or ‘hound jogging’. This period, commencing for Cheshire at the beginning of July, is when the hunt staff introduce the young hounds to the rigour of paying attention to the huntsman while being distracted by freedom and the temptation of all sorts of new smells. As foxhounds follow scent and are not ‘sight’ hunters they are trained to ignore rabbits, cats, groundhogs and other creatures they may come across and to focus on the scent of the fox. ‘Whips’ are kept busy trying to keep the hounds together in a cohesive bunch. Gerry’s role is pretty much the same for the people who come out behind the hounds during the summer – to keep the group together a safe distance from the hounds, so the followers themselves are not yet another distraction for the hounds when they are working, and to round up stragglers.
Gerry (pictured above) has been out every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday morning at the kennels, 7am sharp, having ridden over from his house, rain or shine, for as many years as I can remember.
Gerry is 82 years old and a regular member of the Cheshire hunt field, jumping every jump during the season.
In September of 2001, the Saturday after 9/11, he quietly put a small flag on the front of his helmet cover and has worn one there every since. Boyd Martin, a regular visitor to Cheshire, often riding his four-star event horse, took notice of this fact and the serious but kindly way this gentlemen conducted himself in the hunt field.
A couple of weeks ago, friends of Gerry were welcoming Boyd back to his barn after returning from the Olympics in London. Upon seeing them outside the barn, he ran back inside and returned with the saddle pad that had been his for the Olympic competition. ‘This is for Gerry,’ he said.
The following morning a friend, who keeps a horse with Gerry at his farm, had the horse tacked up and ready to ride over to the kennels. Underneath the saddle was a new saddle pad. Gerry looked at it, wondered what it was, and upon learning that it had been a gift to him from Boyd, said quietly, ‘I am humbled’.
Gerry with his special gift
Boyd you are a nice guy and Gerry you are a gentleman.
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Photos: Beth Harpham
