100 EqUUS 498 AUTUMN 2019
But I trusted Jim, and I knew he trusted
me. In the movie business, Gregory
Peck wasn’t someone you wanted to
disappoint, so I decided to give it a try.
If there was any horse in the world
who could do this, it was Jim....
Stunt horse
extraordinaire
Jim was a chestnut Thoroughbred,
about 16 hands, with clean legs. I knew
nothing of his earliest history. Don
Burt, a well-known horse show judge
and past president of the American
Quarter Horse Association, had found
him tied to a broken-down horse trailer
in the stable area at Agua Caliente
Racetrack in Tijuana, Mexico. The stalls
nearby were empty---the trainer had
moved his stock to the next race meet
but did not have room on his van for
the gelding, so he was left behind. Don
bought the horse for $25.
In turn, Don sold Jim to a hunter/
jumper trainer in California. After they
watched him clear a six-foot single pole
jump, they put him into training. But,
I believe, they pushed him too hard,
too fast. Soon Jim absolutely refused to
jump anything inside of a show ring---
but he would jump the moon anywhere
else. So he was sold again, to stuntman
Clint Sharp for work in the movies.
I first met Jim when I was hired
to ride him as a stunt double for
Dana Wynter in a movie called “The
View From Pompey’s Head.” I soon
discovered that Jim was a paradox. He
was as gentle as a kitten, but riding
him was like playing a violin. If you
knew what you were doing, it could
make beautiful music, but if you were a
beginner, you might be able to manage
only a few discordant notes.
Though we knew nothing of Jim’s
career at the track, he showed signs of
having been used in match races---he
would launch into a full gallop at the
drop of a pin. He had a mouth of pure
velvet, but you had to be very careful
to avoid setting him off into a sprint. I
quickly learned how to ride Jim and I
fell in love with him.
After that shoot, I talked Clint
Sharp into selling the gelding to me.
Our next job was doubling for Flicka
in jumping scenes for the television
series “My Friend Flicka.” We developed
a routine: I would show him the
proposed jump, lead him back a ways,
pat him on the rump and off he would
go toward the obstacle, leaping it
without fail. He had found his calling as
a movie stunt horse.
In one Western, Jim jumped a
burning vegetable cart that was pushed
in front of him as he was gallopingwith the movies. One day, I took him
on a long ride away from our home.
Somewhere along the way I came off
of him---I don’t remember how or why.
We were deep in a grove of trees, and
I couldn’t catch him. No matter what I
tried he just wouldn’t let me get close.
Finally, it was getting dark, so I started
walking home. But before too long I
realized that I was not alone: Jim was
following me. Together we walked all
the way home.
It is a beautiful thing for a rider to
trust a horse, but it is an experience
of a lifetime to have a horse trust you,
too. That is why, all these years later,
it still stings to remember that time
I didn’t heed my gut instincts at Fat
Jones Stables.A jump gone wrong
Once we got our cue, I urged Jim
toward the wagon. The wagon and
straw were only about four-and-a-half
feet high, but the spoked wheels
loomed in front of us. In the Western
saddle, I wasn’t able to get myself
forward over his center of gravity, and
the moment we left the ground, I knew
the jump was going wrong.
We hadn’t gotten enough traction
in the sandy ground to come up to
speed, and then Jim’s forelegs struck
the straw bales, slowing us further.
Suddenly it seemed like everything
was happening in slow motion. I was
terrified for Jim. I knew I had to keep
him clear of the wheels.
Acting entirely on instinct, I pushed
myself out of the saddle in midair
and pulled sideways on the saddle
horn. I fell on my rear, and Jim landed
on his chest with his front legs bent
underneath him. As I quickly got up Jim
had scrambled to his feet. I immediately
grabbed the reins and spoke softly to
him, giving him a good going-over. I
was relieved when I determined that,
though he had some cuts on his shins
and a gash on his chest, Jim was okay.
The photographer stepped forwardIt is a beautiful thing
for a rider to trust a horse,
but it is an experience
of a lifetime to have
a horse trust you, too.down a cobblestone street. With Clint
on board, he leapt through a plate glass
(breakaway) saloon window in “The
True Story of Jesse James.” Doubling
for Debra Paget, I rode Jim in Elvis
Presley’s first film, “Love Me Tender.”
And in “The Mating Game,” he jumped
a fence and the hood of a moving
car with famed stunt rider Donna Hall
on board.
All of this was possible, I knew,
because Jim trusted me. It was a
wonderful feeling. One of my favorite
memories of Jim has nothing to do