Silent Anvil: Bob McCarthy

 Bob McCarthy, the senior statesman of Boston-area farriers, has died.

Farrier friends: The late Allen Smith, left, with Bob McCarthy, right, circa 1988.

Wake  4:00 - 8:00 p.m.  on Thursday, February 17
Funeral Friday, February 18 at 10:00 a.m.
Roberts Mitchell Funeral Service
15 Miller Street, Medfield, Massachusetts 02052
508 359 2000

"The end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.

--T.S. Eliot, Four Quartets

There was a time when I might have been guilty of assigning a high degree of respect for people that was in some sort of direct proportion to the number of hours it would take me to fly to where they lived. As exciting as it is to travel the world, most people stop somewhere, and find a place that they'll call home. I always kept coming right back here, right where I started and like TS Eliot, who grew up  spending summers on the road where I live, it has taken me years to understand what my homing instinct was all about: there was simply no better place on earth for me to be me or to do what I wanted and needed to do.

It had something to do with the people. A lot to do with the people. And I am finally beginning to see it, and know it, for the first time. Just as some of them are slipping away.

I've written a thousand stories about farriers in the Boston area and the Southern New England Farriers Association, which began here in the early 1980s and still carries on. But until the late days of Allen Smith's life, I didn't really understand how it all worked. Or why it worked. I didn't want to analyze something, for fear of jinxing it, and losing Allen was like a spring breaking through a sofa cushion.

Bob McCarthy was a big reason why things worked in the farrier world around here, Allen explained to me one day. I'm hoping that one of the farriers who was close to him will write something about him for the blog but I can tell you what I saw of his character over the years, which was that Bob absolutely had the respect of all the farriers in the Boston area. He didn't demand it, they gave it.

When I came along, there were two senior farriers working who knew the farrier business and had the best accounts: Dick Ham and Bob McCarthy. They were both friendly and generous to the younger farriers, and encouraged them. Dick died quite a while ago, but Bob was helpful in forming the Southern New England Farriers Association, served as its president for many years, and advised behind the scenes for many more. I wonder now how different things might have been if Bob hadn't agreed to be part of SNEFA.

Hardly a politician, Bob served as a stabilizer and a peacekeeper, because no one would ever want to be seen in a bad light in his eyes. Bob was very soft-spoken and made most of his points with a curl of his lip, a raised eyebrow, or a soft grunt. He was gentlemanly, but with a twinkle in his eye; he always seem bemused by what went on around him.

If you saw Bob at a horse show, you'd think he was an owner, not the farrier, until he put his apron on; and when the farrier organizations began talking about establishing vet-farrier relations years ago, Bob was already on a first-name basis with everyone they needed to know.

Bob McCarthy didn't have to say much, and when he did, it would usually have a punchline. He personified the difference between being influential and wielding klout; he didn't seem to have anything to gain, so malice wasn't part of his brand--although mischief certainly was.

Democracy is a wonderful thing. Equality among peers is admirable. But every truly successful civilization recognizes and values its elders. And certain elders accept that they have a responsibility to step forward, or stay accessible, to serve as mentors and role models. With grace and a sense of duty, they impart their wisdom, along with their technical knowledge, to benefit the next generation.

And some, like Bob, never lose their sense of humor, or take themselves too seriously, which makes them very easy to be around.

As sad as I am tonight, I'm sadder still for Myron and Owie and Garth and Freddy and John and Dave and Tom and Alvin and all the others who had a special friend for the past 30 or more years. Someone who was not just a very fine horseshoer--which he certainly was--but who understood all about the challenges they faced trying to make a living.

The Boston area may be a tough place to raise or train or keep horses, but Bob McCarthy helped make it a great place to be a horseshoer. And to be me.

What Might a Horseshoer's Front Page Funeral and Your New Year's Resolution Have in Common?

If you've never been to a horseshoer's funeral, now you can say you have been.

On this last day of the year, it's time to reflect on the events that shaped this year. We'll get to that; the year's not over yet.

While it's easy to point out the things and the people new to the world of the hoof in the past year, it's a little more painful to recognize that we are moving on without some key figures.

Hence, this video. I think this is the first video ever made of a horseshoer's funeral. I never thought I'd be posting a video of a funeral here. It is, of course, voices from people who attended the funeral of Joe Kriz Sr. on September 4, 2010, but if you listen to the voices, they can speak volumes about others who are also gone.

In 2010, we lost Bob Skradzio and Jack Miller as well; these two men were great pillars of support and friendship for me from the day I met them. More than that, just like Joe, they were two people who loved what they did, and did what they loved.

I hope that you can say that about what you do; I know I can.

If you can't, why don't you make a new year's resolution to find--or re-kindle--the passion in your life? May it be half as strong as the passion that Joe and Bob and Jack felt for what they did, and the lives they lived. If enough people dedicated or re-dedicated themselves to their work with and for horses, our world will be a better place and slowly but surely the hole left by the loss of these men will be filled.

I know they'd all three add a PS to that: "And be sure to pass it on." Just like they did.

By the way, toward the end of Joe's funeral video, when they arrive at the cemetery, Joe's casket, emblazoned as it was with Scotch-bottom draft horse shoes, was buried next to his brother and lifetime horseshoeing partner, Johnny, just as you'd expect. It's a beautiful place.

I notice that on Johnny's headstone are written the immortal closing words from Will Ogilvie's famous poem, The Hooves of the Horses:

When you lay me to slumber no spot can you choose
But will ring to the rhythm of galloping shoes,
And under the daisies no grave be so deep
But the hooves of the horses shall sound in my sleep.

{ A note about the video }

The video is posted here with the kind permission of Joe Kriz Jr., producer Peter Hvizdak and the New Haven Register newspaper, where you can also still re-live U.J.'s funeral whenever you feel like it. I don't think we'll make a habit of showing videos of funerals, since they are very private events, but this video was produced more as a tribute to Joe, and I hope it's seen that way.

© Fran Jurga and Hoofcare Publishing; Fran Jurga's Hoof Blog is a between-issues news service for subscribers to Hoofcare and Lameness Journal. Please, no use without permission. You only need to ask. This blog may be read online at the blog page, checked via RSS feed, or received via a digest-type email (requires signup in box at top right of blog page). To subscribe to Hoofcare and Lameness (the journal), please visit the main site, www.hoofcare.com, where many educational products and media related to equine lameness and hoof science can be found. Questions or problems with this blog? Send email to blog@hoofcare.com.
 

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Bob Skradzio: The Horseshoer's Horseshoer

19 February 2010 | Fran Jurga's Hoof Blog at Hoofcare.com

Bob Skradzio at one of his last farrier clinics, at Skidmore College's equestrian center in Saratoga Springs, New York. Notice the size of his hands. That's a big anvil; it just looks small under his hands.

Bob Skradzio died today in a hospital near his home in Ambler, Pennsylvania. He suffered a stroke on Monday.

A funeral will be held on Thursday, February 25th at 10 a.m. at the Jarrettown United Methodist Church, 1460 Limekiln Pike, Dresher, Pennsylvania, with a viewing on Wednesday evening from 6:30 to 9:30 p.m. at the Ciaravelli Funeral Home, Condolences may be made at a memorial page for Bob at www.ciavarellifuneralhomes.com.

If you didn't know Bob, you certainly had plenty of chances. He shod horses in the Philadelphia, Pennsylvania area for more than 60 years and lived for most of his adult life in Ambler. He is probably one of the most famous farriers in America, but is equally famous for his unique personality and genuine interest in people as he is for his outstanding skill as a horseman and as a horseshoer.

Bob began an apprenticeship as a horseshoer in Philadelphia while he was in high school. He worked after school and on weekends and finished his apprenticeship in 1946. Philadelphia had large stables of work horses used for delivery, that were shod by contract; horseshoers were in great demand in the wealthy suburbs on weekends. "I was a rich man, when I was a very young man," Bob used to recall. "No one was making the kind of money that I was making back then."

Out in the foxhunting and horse-showing suburbs, Bob built up a loyal clientele, some of whom he kept for decades. He trained many apprentices, including his son Bob Jr., Ron Palmer, and others. Bob and Ron worked to bring the American Farrier's Association Convention to Valley Forge, PA in 1982.

I think Bob must have given more educational clinics than any other farrier in North America. During the 1990s, he worked on weekends with St Croix Forge, giving low-key presentations all over the country. His goal was not to directly sell shoes (Bob wasn't good at commercials) as much as to bring horseshoers into the fold, and to show them that going to clinics was not a threat. It worked because Bob could and would talk to everyone in the room. Maybe he'd never see them again, but they'd never forget him. Clint Carlson believed it was good for business to send Bob Skradzio as his company's first clinician out to the remote parts of the country, and he was right: As far as I know, Bob never showed a slide, didn't have a laptop and didn't know what PowerPoint is. He used his hands and his head and the tools from his box. It worked.

The last official event I did with Bob was one of our Hoofcare@Saratoga Tuesdays. I made sure Bob was the headliner; Mike Wildenstein took second billing, with a wink. When Bob saw Jim Santore's beautiful shoeing shop at Skidmore College's equestrian center, his eyes lit up. He could work there all day. And he did; the farriers who showed up that day had a treat. And then there was a talk that night at the Parting Glass. He just kept going.

You can double click on this image to see an enlarged picture of two of Bob's most famous assets: his hands. These hands were on the Hoofcare & Lameness/St Croix Forge wall calendar one year; many farriers told me they saved this picture. This is an ad from one of Bob's last farrier clinics.

Bob was the "booth magnet" at the Hoofcare & Lameness booth at the American Farrier's Association Convention for many years. People would line up to shake his hand or to remind him of the one time they had met (of course he remembered). He stood there to help the magazine, maybe, but he did mostly because he knew that a lot of people traveled a long way, spent a lot of money and they might not get to meet and shake hands with the famous farriers. But he'd be there and he'd talk to them as long as they wanted. He understood the shy ones and the quiet ones who didn't know anyone. And it gave him something to do. Bob didn't like hanging around with nothing to do.

Bob has a done-it-all resume. He served on the AFA board, was president of the Pennsylvania Guild, represented the USA--not once, not twice, but three times!--on the North American Horseshoeing Team in international competition, he won all the contests a farrier could win, and showed up for a few extra ones, too. I remember fondly when he competed in the raceplating and crab-eating contest at the Preakness the one time that was held, not because he plated racehorses but he thought it was worth a shot. Another time, he and Bruce Daniels re-created the scene of Norman Rockwell's toe-and-heel contest painting and went at it welding toe and heel calks on a hot September day. Just for the fun of it.

Bob Skradzio had a home life too. His wonderful wife Alene often traveled with him. He has three daughters and his son, Bobby Jr., is a horseshoer who actually employed Bob the past few years. Many people marvel that Bob was the former father-in-law of farrier Dave Duckett, who still lives down the road from him. Bob has a beautiful, classic home and collected sports cars. When I took him through the car museum in Saratoga, they quickly learned that he could be giving the tours. "I used to have one of them..." he said over and over. "I never should of sold it."

Bob was inducted into the Horseshoers' Hall of Fame in 1997 alongside Dr Doug Butler and the late Eddie Watson. I'm sure that he succeeded at everything he attempted to do in his profession, but his very best skill was in encouraging people to stick with it: keep trying, he'd say. You'll get there, what do you need to know? I know this first-hand because he's been coaching me for years. His support and encouragement have made a huge difference in my life. His friendship meant the world to me.

It's great to be good at what you do, or even to be the best. I'm sure that meant a lot to Bob. But how much more does it mean when so many people say spontaneously, "Oh! I will never forget that guy!" and really, truly mean it? How much more meaningful to be a legend for the humanity and the humor you brought to your profession and the horse world around you?


© Fran Jurga and Hoofcare Publishing. Please, no use without permission. You only need to ask. Fran Jurga's Hoof Blog is a between-issues news service for subscribers to Hoofcare and Lameness Journal. This blog may be read online at the blog page, checked via RSS feed, or received via a digest-type email (requires signup in box at top right of blog page). To subscribe to Hoofcare and Lameness (the journal), please visit the main site, www.hoofcare.com, where many educational products and media related to equine lameness and hoof science can be found. Questions or problems with this blog? Send email to blog@hoofcare.com.

The Strong Man Hangs On

17 February 2010 | Fran Jurga's Hoof Blog at Hoofcare.com

Maybe you could take a minute and think a few kind thoughts for a very strong man who is in a very helpless place tonight. He'd do that--and more--for you.

Holy Horseshoes! Bob Baffert's Bold Backstretch Blacksmith Burn-On

by Fran Jurga | 4 May 2009 | Fran Jurga's Hoof Blog

"Hey, dude, you're setting my horse's foot on fire!" Trainer Bob Baffert watched closely as Tom Doolan hot-seated Pioneerof the Nile's feet before the Kentucky Derby on Saturday. The horse finished second. For a bigger view of this photo, double-click on the image.

Needless to say, this is a story that racing fans would read only on the Hoof Blog.

Bob Baffert must have been holding his breath Saturday morning as he watched horseshoer Tom Doolan hotseating Pioneerof the Nile's hooves before nailing on new shoes for the Kentucky Derby.

In case you are not familiar with this process: "Hot seating" is as old as the hills...or maybe older, but you don't see it much around the racetrack anymore. When pleasure horses are shod with heavier steel shoes, the shoes are still heated in a forge and shaped and reflattened to fit the foot.

Then, before nailing on, the hot shoe is held against the trimmed foot to make sure that the foot is trimmed flat and that the shoe has been hammered flat and that everything is where the shoer wants it. Along the way, some shoers notice that the feet that are "burnt on" tended to be healthier and there are actually some studies going on to see what is the optimum time to hold the hot shoe against the foot.

You can't heat up an aluminum race plate so Baffert's farrier, Massachusetts native Tom Doolan, used Dan Burke's forge to heat a steel shoe to use for the hot seating of Pioneerof the Nile's feet, then he just nailed on the cold aluminum plate.

Hot seating or fitting also causes a loud sizzle and then releases a plume of sulfurous smoke that has a special way of clinging to your hair and clothes: it's all very medieval and magical the first time you witness it! Bob Baffert has been around long enough to have witnessed it many times, but the sheriff's deputies and security guards who crowded around probably wondered why people wrinkled their noses at them the rest of the day.

Many shoers believe that a foot that has been hot-seated also holds a shoe better and that the process somehow seals the horn tubules and helps keep bacteria out of the hoof wall. Saturday's wet track conditions may have inspired Doolan, or weakened Baffert's resistance to allowing his very valuable horse's feet to be set almost set afire a few hours before the race. Or, it may have been Baffert's idea in the first place when he saw the weather report.

Note: Hot seating has nothing to do with any sort of a lameness condition; it is routinely done on sound horses perhaps even more often than on lame horses. There is no indication at all that anything is wrong with Pioneerof the Nile's feet, although we can't see his feet through the flames!

They say the Kentucky Derby is all about tradition, and this little ancient backstretch ritual certainly proved that.

Tom Broadus worked out of the Farrier Product Distribution vintage Chevrolet pickup with its state-of-the-art Stonewell farrier box body to prepare shoes for Papa Clem on Derby morning. The fully-equipped classic rig was parked at Churchill Downs for the week in case any of the visiting shoers needed help.

Thanks to Dan Burke for the photos!

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© Fran Jurga and Hoofcare Publishing. No use without permission. You only need to ask. Fran Jurga's Hoof Blog is a between-issues news service for subscribers to Hoofcare and Lameness Journal. This blog may be read online at the blog page, checked via RSS feed, or received via a digest-type email (requires signup in box at top right of blog page). To subscribe to Hoofcare and Lameness (the journal), please visit the main site, www.hoofcare.com, where many educational products and media related to equine lameness and hoof science can be found. Questions or problems with this blog? Send email to blog@hoofcare.com.

Friends at Work: "Good Hands" Are Part of the Job Description

I always say that farriers are "two-faced". Not dishonesty-wise, but literally. Farriers who have spent their lives on the job usually have great faces enhanced by plenty of laugh lines around their eyes.

But their hands are a second "face" and you can read a lot about them by looking at their hands' creases, their scars, their lumps and bumps and all the old burn scars inside their wrists and sometimes up to the crooks of their elbows.

Pennsylvania farrier Bob Skradzio Sr. has the most interesting hands of anyone I've met and I've even photographed them! His hands were featured for a month on the Hoofcare & Lameness/St. Croix Forge wall calendar about ten years ago, and many people told me that it was one of their favorite of all the photos, even though no horses, no hooves, no shoes, and no tools were in the picture. In a way, all those things were there because you could see what 50 years of shoeing horses had done to his hands.

That's what came to mind on Sunday when I read the article in Sunday's Augusta Chronicle about Mark Berchtold, a farrier in Aiken, South Carolina. It's a nice article, to be sure, but my eye went to the photo of Mark's hands cradling a hoof, shown above. I'm sure most would be checking the position or fit of the shoe but I was looking at Mark's hands.

In the article, Mark admits that he broke his left hand twice and his right hand three times and lost part of his thumb. And right now he's having a knuckle problem.

The newspaper did a nice article about Mark, and there's a little slide show, too.

Two of my favorite faces, four of my favorite hands: lifetime veteran farriers Bob Skradzio, Sr. of Pennsylvania and Joe Kriz, Sr. of Connecticut. Both have sons (by the same names) who are farriers.

© 2008 Fran Jurga and Hoofcare Publishing. No use without permission. All images and text protected to full extent of law. Permissions for use in other media or elsewhere on the web can be easily arranged. Fran Jurga's Hoof Blog is a between-issues news service for subscribers to Hoofcare and Lameness Journal. This blog may be read online at the blog's web page or received via a daily email through an automated delivery service. An RSS feed is also available. To subscribe to Hoofcare and Lameness, please visit our main site, www.hoofcare.com, where many educational products and media related to equine lameness and hoof science can be found.

Questions? Send email to blog@hoofcare.com.

Friends at Work: Father's Day Off

Today is Father's Day in the USA, and perhaps other places in the world. By coincidence, I think, I received an email today from my friend Uwe Lukas in Germany. Uwe is the author of the great new book (in German only, sadly, but the photos are great) Gesunde Hufe, Kein Zufall. Uwe has a long list of impressive credentials in the farrier and sport horse world, but today his top credential is as a proud father. In the photo, you see his six year old daughter Leonie trimming her pony. (Where did she get a farrier's apron to match her hair????)

Uwe writes by email today, "Now i have a little bit for smile. My daugther is 6 years old and she trims her pony self. I give her only supporting how much and where she trims. She knows, she will be a Farrier and a Vet in the future. I think it's changing sometime more."

If the stable in the background looks a little elaborate, the Lukases liven in Warendorf, home of the state stud for the Westphalian breed and the national equestrian federation. A lot of Olympic gold medals have gone home to Warendorf.

Uwe's English is a lot better than my German, but I am sure you can get the idea of what he's saying.

I think I have some matchmaking to do. On this side of the Atlantic, we have Robbie Pethick, the handsome son of New Jersey farrier Bob Pethick, who has taken on trimming a horse, not a mere pony. Robbie will be six in August.

They already have something in common--note that they are both using HoofJack hoof stands!

Both of these youngsters also have a great advantage if they learn from their expert farrier dads, each of whom shoes some of the very top dressage and sport horses in their respective countries.

Father's Day for me was tinged by the memorials on television here in the USA this morning for the superb television journalist/interviewer and one of my professional heroes, NBC's Washington bureau chief Tim Russert. Tim was much more than a reporter and host of the "Meet the Press" tv show, as evidenced by his larger-than-life camera presence and his recent stints on the bestseller list with his book Big Russ and Me, about growing up under his father's influence in the gritty US city of Buffalo, New York. Tim died suddenly this week.

I was hoping to quote from the book here but when I went looking for an excerpt I ended up on the book's web site and I found a letter from Tim on the front page. I'll reproduce a little passage from it here, and hope that if you haven't read this book, you will, no matter who your dad was or is, or what your relationship is like. Tim writes:

In the spring of 2004, I published a book about my father--about the lessons I have learned from him, the way he has influenced me, and my enormous love and respect for this steady, hardworking, and modest man. My publisher sent me on a publicity tour in the hope that people around the country would see the book as an ideal Father's Day gift.

Early in the tour I was in Chicago, where to my great relief, customers were lining up to buy the book and have me autograph it. What happened next really surprised me.

"Make it out to Big Mike" somebody told me, which was followed in rapid succession by, "This is for Big Mario"..."Please inscribe it out to Big Manuel."..."For Big Irv."..."Big Willie"..."Big Stan"

I had expected that my book would appeal to readers in my home town of Buffalo, New York, but I didn't know whether the story of a young man coming of age in a blue-collar Irish-Catholic neighborhood, whose father was a truck driver and a sanitation man, would strike a cord with a wider audience.

I (soon) discovered there were many Big Russes out there--good, industrious, and patriotic men who have a lot in common with my dad, even if they didn't share his religion or his heritage. By writing a book about my father, I was affirming not only his life, but the lives of many other fathers as well.
(end quote)

I am sorry that I never had a chance to ask Tim to inscribe a copy to Big Joe.

If you have a few minutes, click on this link and listen to Tim reading the intro to Big Russ and Me. Link to Tim Russert reading