Friends at Work: Farrier Jim Kline's Client List Hasn't Changed Much in 20 Years

Video courtesy of the Poughkeepsie (NY) Journal

I'm glad I watched this video. Now I have a new yardstick for judging change in the horse world. They say people are in and out of the horse business; Jim Kline says he hasn't been taking on any new customers for the past 20 years or so. There might be people hanging onto their horses just so they won't fall off his client list.

Does that sound like a successful horseshoer to you? I think it should.

Jim lives in a nice part of the world, the Hudson River valley, a few hours north of New York City. His territory would be the magnificent hunt country and Thoroughbred farms of Millbrook and Rhinebeck, rolling into the Litchfield hills of Connecticut.

I don't know what you will get out of this video; it's a little snapshot of  a few minutes spent with one of New York state's senior farriers, but he offered a lot of food for thought for me.

"Thought" is a word that is easy to connect with Jim, because he thinks a lot and I always stop and listen when he speaks because I know he's been pondering things. If you ever have the chance to meet him, you'll be glad you did. You can ask him about almost anything and you're sure to get an answer back that will turn around and put you to the test, whether you ask Jim about Thoroughbred feet or what's for lunch.

This video accompanies a feature article about Jim that was in the Poughkeepsie (NY) Journal today, along with a beautiful photo of him. Sometimes I cringe when I see these articles and wonder if the journalist knew just who he or she was interviewing but this piece is great--Jim just talked about what it's like to be a farrier in one of the best places in the world to be one. And the reporter had the good sense to just write down what he said.

Watch the video, read the Poughkeepsie Journal article, and get to know Jim Kline.

© 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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'Twas the Night Before Horseshoes and All Through Poughkeepsie...

Somewhere in this engraving of the Phoenix horseshoe mill in Poughkeepsie, New York is the little house where "The Night Before Christmas" is believed to have been written. Double-click on the image to see an enlarged view.

Do your holiday plans include reading or reciting "The Night Before Christmas", also known as "A Visit from St. Nick"? It may well be the best-known bit of poetry ever written in America. But did you know that there's a horseshoe connection to the poem?

The poem is believed to have been written by a Poughkeepsie, New York gentleman, Henry Livingston, who read it to his children. After his death, the poem was published in a Troy, New York newspaper and attributed to the poet Clement Clark Moore.

The Livingston family has been fighting for the poem to be credited properly to their ancestor, but it has been hard to prove. One tidbit from their family web site is that the reindeer names may actually have been the names of Henry Livingston’s horses.

After Henry's death, the Livingston family’s home became the headquarters office of the fledgling Phoenix Horseshoe Company, whose massive factories soon lined the shore of the Hudson River. Phoenix and the Troy-based Burden Horse Shoes, an hour further up the Hudson River, dominated the horseshoe manufacturing world up until the World War II era.

Isn't it odd that the two leading cities of horseshoe manufacturing would also be the two cities of the Christmas poem's controversy?

After the turn of the century, Phoenix tore Henry Livingston's house down, but horseshoe moguls obviously believed in Henry's authorship of the poem. Phoenix carefully removed and donated the mantle and hearth, such a vivid setting for St. Nicholas in the poem, to the Daughters of the American Revolution’s Poughkeepsie chapter. It is supposed to be in the Clinton museum there.

I'd say that if the business of Phoenix Horse Shoes was conducted before that hearth, it is doubly of interest and worth knowing its whereabouts!

Wait, there’s more. While there is no written history of Phoenix that I can find, there do seem to be ongoing ties between the Livingston family and the fledgling farrier industry of the 19th century. The Livingston Horse Nail Company, headed by S. Otis Livingston, had an agent who also represented Phoenix. The Livingstons made rasps and aprons, as well as Livingston, Anchor, New Haven and Coleman brand nails. Henry Livingston was involved as an investor--or more like a modern-day venture capitalist/equity trader--in the Forge Village and Globe horse nail companies in Massachusetts.

According to an ad in the 1907 Horseshoers Journal, the company was founded in 1845, predating Capewell. At that time, farriers were sold "horse nail iron" from Norway, which they used to make their nails. Early manufactured nails were sold unpointed, especially from some of the firms that Henry Livingston invested in.

The Livingstons were an influential political family and a very wealthy one. They helped write and then signed both the Declaration of Independence and the United States Constitution. It was a Livingston who swore George Washington into office for his first term. U.S. Presidents George H.W. and George W. Bush are direct descendants of the Livingstons of Poughkeepsie.

I know if I dig deeper (or someone in Poughkeepsie does it for me) I will find a more direct link between the Livingstons and ownership or backing of the Phoenix Horse Shoe Company. Then, this really will be the night before horseshoes.

But for now, let’s pretend that Henry Livingston was frustrated because his horses all needed sharp winter shoes to get around the icy December roads of Poughkeepsie. He imagined they could fly, all hooked to a sleigh. Perhaps his farrier gave him an idea, too!

Merry Christmas…and to all, a good night!