Horse Habit

  The Curse As I returned to the beautiful, yet small speck of a town called Midway, I had a turmoil feeling of uneasiness in the pit of my stomach. My hometown, Louisville, Kentucky was a much different scene compared to the farmland that now took the place of city skyscrapers. The sound of the train replaced the constant sirens that echoed outside my windows. Car thefts, Black Lives Matter Protests, and the deadly coronavirus created a catastrophic environment. Churchill Downs and the State fair had decided to slash the customer capacity in half. Local businesses were either vacant, vandalized, or boarded up with thick wooden panels. My mother had to learn how to use online technology before she could teach, the basketball courts no longer had shouting, and my packed house finally had its sixth member back. Even after doctors, scientists, celebrities, and our own mayor Andy Beshear had warned colleges from opening, I found myself driving my unreliable 2002 red Saturn to Midway Un...

Over the span of 18 years, in which I had always admired, wanted, and was undeniably fascinated by horses; I began to step towards my future by looking at the past.  After learning that my beloved Grandmother had gone to a little school in the tiny, quiet, horse populated countryside of Midway, Kentucky, I decided to discover more about the town that my Grandma had been raised in.  My high school cross-country coach, Mr. Reynolds, a chemistry teacher who looked the part with his white hair and wide rimmed glasses also mentioned the distant, yet familiar name of Midway. The reason he brought the school to my attention was due to my own self affliction; earlier that year I had written a paper describing the dangerous and toxicity levels of crab apples in Kentucky and their effects on horses. He knew that Midway University offered several Equine programs.  I had no true "handling" or riding experience with horses. My first interaction occurred at the famous Twin Spires locat...