Harrell's Passion For The Thoroughbred Industry, Kentucky Derby Was Limitless
By: William F. Reed

LOUISVILLE, Ky. (Apr. 2, 2003) - A wall in the Churchill Downs pressbox is devoted to photos of deceased journalists who honored the Kentucky Derby with their passion and their talent. As the age of 60 comes furiously rushing at me, the wall has a certain morbid fascination for me. I have more good friends on the wall than I'll have on this Derby Day, if I'm lucky enough to make it.

Someday soon, a new photo will be added to the wall. John Harrell of the Courier-Journal. Like my friend Jim Bolus, who died of a heart attack in 1997, John was far too young to join that distinguished group. His best work was ahead of him, although the work he leaves behind is a testimony to his talent and work ethic.

Today I grieve for his wife and daughter.

At last year's Breeders' Cup at Arlington Park in Chicago, John and I had a long conversation. When I mentioned to him that I had a baby granddaughter, Caroline Ruth Frederick, he whipped out his wallet to show me a snapshot of his beloved daughter, Hannah.

As he was babbling on about his daughter and his lovely wife, as proud dads and grand-dads tend to do, he literally glowed, his expression rapturous. Watching him out of the corner of my eye, I thought, "What a terrific young man this guy is."

He had sought me out to talk about his fairly new assignment: covering the business side of the Thoroughbred industry for the Courier-Journal, my longtime employer. He was as thrilled to be working with his friend Jennie Rees, the C-J's award-winning racing beat writer and columnist for the sports section, as Jennie was to be working with him.

He had so much energy, so many ideas, so much zest for the quest of excellence. Listening to him, seeing the sparkle in his eyes, my spirits soared. As often happens as you grow older, I've grown a bit cynical, and sad, about the future of my noble profession. And I don't use the word "noble" lightly.

Some of the best and brightest and most admirable people I've ever known have been journalists who are interested only in shining the light of truth in life's dark places, even if it means they'll be reviled and ridiculed for their efforts.

As I listened to John, I flashed back to some of my respected mentors and colleagues at the C-J: George Gill, Carol Sutton, Mike Waller, Earl Cox, Jim Ausenbaugh, Norman Isaacs, Elmer "Tiger" Hall, Paul Janensch, David Hawpe, Stan Slusher, Jimmy Pope, and so many others.

And I thought, "Wow! Would they love this kid or not?" It was a rhetorical question. John Harrell was the embodiment of the sort of vibrant, inquisitive, principled, idealistic young person who has been the C-J's lifeblood decade after decade.

For a long while, I wasn't sure what to make of John. I'd run into him sometimes and he would be as friendly as a long-lost pal. But other times, he would be remote and distant, looking right through me, as if I were made of cellophane.

But then it finally dawned on me that I might have been looking at myself in the mirror. John was so motivated, so focused on the task at hand, that sometimes he seemed rude. He didn't mean to be. He was just inexorably possessed by the seductive allure of great journalism, as I've been for almost 45 years.

(To anybody who thinks I've treated them rudely in the course of performing my job, I apologize in John's name.)

As I've grown older, I've had mixed experiences with younger journalists. Some are so self-absorbed and ambitious that they blow you off as a fossil or a has-been. Others are politely respectful, as if they're talking to a ghost who happens to still be alive. And then others seek you out to pick your brain, whatever's left of it, about the past, present, and future.

I love the last type.

Tony Cruise of WHAS radio is one of my favorite people. He and John, who was 37, are roughtly the same age. Tony has been so kind and respectful that I consider myself to be his surrogate dad. He tries hard, and suceeds admirably, at the difficult job of playing host to a radio talk show, which is especially difficult when you're as sensitive and good-hearted as Tony.

Just as I sought out the likes of Red Smith, Jim Murray, Dan Jenkins, and Joe Hirsch in my younger days as a writer, so have Tony and John Harrell sought out me. I can't think of a greater compliment. They, and a few others, made me feel as if I were still important, that my work and opinions still mattered.

For that gift, I'm eternally grateful to each of them.

They also made me feel better about the future of journalism. As long as the Tony Cruises and John Harrells of the world are drawn to this much-maligned, but so vital, profession that I've loved with an unhealthy passion, all journalists can still dream the impossible dream: Doing what we can to celebrate the triumphs of the human spirit and exposing those who would cynically abuse and take advantage of their fellow man.

I think about the last conversation I had with Dick Schaap, who made a fortune and a national reputation working for ESPN and writing books. He started off as an ink-stained wretch, working for the old New York Herald-Tribune, perhaps the best-written paper in the history of American journalism.

"I got into journalism not to make money, because that wasn't an option in those days, but to save the world," Dick said. "As it has turned out, I've made a lot of money, but I've watched the newspaper business become less interested in saving the world."

John Harrell wanted to save the world -- or, at least, that part of it that mattered to him. Unlike many of his peers, he made it a point to be a sponge, soaking up every morsel of information he could about the Kentucky Derby and Thoroughbred racing. He was well on his way to being the next Jim Bolus, which is about as high a compliment as I can possibly pay a human being.

I was looking forward to giving John a copy of my new book, a collection of my favorite Derby stories. (I'd like to think that John would forgive this shameless bit of commercialism.) But being the historian that he was, he might have enjoyed it. And being the kind of person he was, he probably would have lied to me even if he didn't.

But my plan was to say something like this when I handed it to him: "John, it makes me extraordinarily happy to know a talented young man who shares my passion for the Kentucky Derby and for Thoroughbred racing."

Whenever I think of John, my first image will be of his rapturous expression when he showed me the snapshot of his daughter. It told me all I needed to know about the sort of person he was.

I wish I could say something that would comfort his family and answer their unanswerable questions, but I can't. I'll leave that to ministers or priest or individuals far more learned in these heart-wrenching things than myself.

All I know is that it's far, far too early for the photo of Hannah Harrell's dad to be on that wall in the Churchill Downs pressbox.

Native Kentuckian William F. Reed has been a sports writer in various capacities for 43 years and has missed covering the Kentucky Derby a mere two times since 1966. He has been a high-profile sports writer in Kentucky for the Commonwealth's two largest daily newspapers, the Louisville Courier-Journal and the Lexington Herald-Leader and was a national columnist for Sports Illustrated, covering among other sports, Thoroughbred horse racing and college basketball. Reed currently pens a column for the Louisville Sports Report and covered Kentucky Derby 128 for kentuckyderby.com. He will be filing frequent installments for CDSN's (Churchill Downs Simulcasting Network) websites throughout 2003.

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