My Early Days with Friesians
First Exposure
I saw my first Friesian horses in 1979. A horseshoer friend of mine invited me to come along while he worked on Frank Leyendekker's nine black horses. I still remember that day very well. It was a summer day and the horses were inside the barn having their midday meal.
Now that I've been to Friesland a couple of times, and have something to compare to, I would say that walking into that barn was very much like walking into an old barn in Friesland. It was very dark and the horses stood in tie stalls. Though I had spent my entire life among horses, this was a very different experience.
Frank operated a big dairy in central California. Like a lot of other dairymen in that state, Frank is Friese. He did then, and probably still does, speak the old language whenever he can. When I first met Frank, he was very much in charge of running his dairy, but things ran pretty smooth with his six sons in charge of various aspects of his operation. Because of their good help, Frank always seemed to have time for a neighbor who would stop in for a visit and talk about the horses.
People smoked a lot in those days and what Frank and his friends rolled and smoked was Van Nelle tobacco, imported from Friesland. I mention this because I still associate that smell with my early memories of Friesian horses. Stopping in at Frank's was sort of like an inexpensive trip to the Netherlands.
Majestic Appeal
I had been around horses my entire life. My brother and I began driving regularly about the time we were able to keep a fairly steady grip. Over the years I had been with or had seen about every breed or combination of equine breeds imaginable.
So years and thousands of horses later, it became a rare day that I saw a horse that made a vivid impression on me. That first day in Frank's barn was one of those days. I suppose the ultimate of one of those days. In the dim light of the barn, I saw something I probably still can't describe even now. Appealing sounds too simple. Majestic sounds better. But is wasn't their obvious majesty that I liked most, though they had plenty of it. I liked the way they were put together; they looked like they could do something — lots of things.
Home for Training
After my first visit with Frank, I stopped in a few more times and we got to know each other a little better. Then he did a very remarkable thing. He let me take the six mature horses of the bunch home to my Dad's. I say remarkable because he was very attached to those horses. He wasn't really the type to send horses off to horse trainers; besides, we had only briefly met. He knew a few people who knew some people who had heard of me and figured he would take a chance.
At the time, there were only fifteen Friesians in the US. Six were in Ohio, Frank had his three yearlings and I had his other six in my Dad's backyard. We kept them there for three months…
I saw my first Friesian horses in 1979. A horseshoer friend of mine invited me to come along while he worked on Frank Leyendekker's nine black horses. I still remember that day very well. It was a summer day and the horses were inside the barn having their midday meal.
Now that I've been to Friesland a couple of times, and have something to compare to, I would say that walking into that barn was very much like walking into an old barn in Friesland. It was very dark and the horses stood in tie stalls. Though I had spent my entire life among horses, this was a very different experience.
Frank operated a big dairy in central California. Like a lot of other dairymen in that state, Frank is Friese. He did then, and probably still does, speak the old language whenever he can. When I first met Frank, he was very much in charge of running his dairy, but things ran pretty smooth with his six sons in charge of various aspects of his operation. Because of their good help, Frank always seemed to have time for a neighbor who would stop in for a visit and talk about the horses.
People smoked a lot in those days and what Frank and his friends rolled and smoked was Van Nelle tobacco, imported from Friesland. I mention this because I still associate that smell with my early memories of Friesian horses. Stopping in at Frank's was sort of like an inexpensive trip to the Netherlands.
Majestic Appeal
I had been around horses my entire life. My brother and I began driving regularly about the time we were able to keep a fairly steady grip. Over the years I had been with or had seen about every breed or combination of equine breeds imaginable.
So years and thousands of horses later, it became a rare day that I saw a horse that made a vivid impression on me. That first day in Frank's barn was one of those days. I suppose the ultimate of one of those days. In the dim light of the barn, I saw something I probably still can't describe even now. Appealing sounds too simple. Majestic sounds better. But is wasn't their obvious majesty that I liked most, though they had plenty of it. I liked the way they were put together; they looked like they could do something — lots of things.
Home for Training
After my first visit with Frank, I stopped in a few more times and we got to know each other a little better. Then he did a very remarkable thing. He let me take the six mature horses of the bunch home to my Dad's. I say remarkable because he was very attached to those horses. He wasn't really the type to send horses off to horse trainers; besides, we had only briefly met. He knew a few people who knew some people who had heard of me and figured he would take a chance.
At the time, there were only fifteen Friesians in the US. Six were in Ohio, Frank had his three yearlings and I had his other six in my Dad's backyard. We kept them there for three months…
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