[Congressional Record Volume 140, Number 11 (Tuesday, February 8, 1994)]
[Senate]
[Page S]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Printing Office [www.gpo.gov]


[Congressional Record: February 8, 1994]
From the Congressional Record Online via GPO Access [wais.access.gpo.gov]

 
TRIBUTE TO WARNER L. JONES--KENTUCKY AND THE NATION LOSE A GIANT OF THE 
                         HORSE RACING INDUSTRY

 Mr. McCONNELL. Mr. President, as my colleagues know, the 
thoroughbred industry is vital to my home State of Kentucky. 
Unfortunately, this past weekend that industry lost one of its 
pioneers, my dear friend Warner L. Jones.
  Warner led what can only be called a full, exciting, and wonderful 
life. The world famous Churchill Downs race track in Louisville, KY, 
was founded on his great-grandmother's land and owes much of its 
current success to his leadership. He served as a director of the track 
for over 50 years, and was chairman during the historic track's revival 
in the 1980's. Warner did not take his commitment to Churchill Downs 
lightly. In 1969, when the track was in danger of being taken over, he 
borrowed almost $300,000 in order to buy more stock and help fend off 
the bid.
  Under Warner and track president Tom Meeker's able guidance, 
Churchill Downs underwent a $25 million renovation as well as doubling 
its revenue. It was also during this time that in 1988 the track hosted 
for the first time the prestigious Breeders Cup event. It later hosted 
this exciting day in racing in 1991 and will again in November of this 
year.
  Mr. President, Warner had since 1935 been one of the most influential 
breeders in America. From his picturesque Hermitage Farm in Goshen, KY, 
in Oldham County, he bred and housed some of the world's most 
influential thoroughbreds in the world. He was the only breeder to have 
ever bred winners in the Kentucky Derby, Kentucky Oaks, and a Breeders 
Cup race. In 1985, Warner sold one of his yearlings at the annual 
Keeneland sales for a world record $13.1 million.
  Warner was also active on the legislative end of the business as 
well, Mr. President. He was one of the creators of the American Horse 
Council, a national association that represents the industry in 
Congress. As cousin to our former colleague Marlow Cook of Kentucky, it 
should come as no surprise that Warner was always diligent and 
effective in lobbying his industry's many vital interests. In fact, 
James J. Hickey, Jr., the current president of the American Horse 
Council, called Warner ``one of the most important people in the horse 
industry in this century.''
  While this is indeed high praise, it in no way tells the entire story 
of this great American. Warner Jones was a man whose moral compass was 
always focused in exactly the right direction. An ardent believer in 
strong family values, he was a man of unparalleled character, 
integrity, and charm.
  In his native Oldham County, Warner donated some of his property as 
well as thousands of dollars to the Oldham County Youth Football 
League. In spite of what some saw as a gruff exterior, Warner was a 
friend to all and had a particular soft spot for children. In fact, one 
of his friends said that Warner often carried with him a thank-you 
letter written to him by some of the kids he had helped get involved 
with the football league.

  Mr. President, a loss like the one the Commonwealth of Kentucky and 
the horse industry has just suffered is not easily forgotten. I ask my 
colleagues to join me in remembering and honoring the significant 
contributions made during his productive lifetime. Having recently lost 
my mother, I understand the grief that his family is suffering and, 
therefore, would like to also extend my deepest sympathies and 
understanding to his wonderful wife Harriet as she goes through this 
trying time.
  Mr. President, I would like to ask that an article from the February 
8, 1994, Lexington Herald Leader be inserted into the Record at this 
point.

         [From the Lexington (KY) Herald Leader, Feb. 8, 1994]

                Death of Horseman Jones Ends Special Era

                            (By Billy Reed)

       LOUSIVILLE.--Before Kenneland's world-famous summer 
     yearling sale, you could usually hear Warner L. Jones Jr. 
     moaning and fretting in that raspy voice of his over what 
     cruel fate might have in store for him.
       ``My whole business, my success or failure for a whole 
     year.'' Jones once said, ``is decided in three hours on one 
     night of the year at Kenneland. I don't know of any other 
     business where you have that kind of pressure.''
       Yes, but he thrived on it. At the end of a sale, ol' Warner 
     usually was smiling as he headed back to Hermitage Farm, his 
     five hundred-acre spread just off U.S. 42 in Oldham County, 
     about 20 minutes from downtown Louisville.
       In July of 1964, Jones sold a yearling colt for $150,000, a 
     world record that looked laughable in the summer of 1985, 
     when he sold a Nijinsky-My Charmer colt for $13.1 million, 
     the current world record and one that's likely to stand 
     forever.
       ``I knew he was a helluva colt,'' salesman Jones said. ``He 
     was one of a kind, like a precious stone or jewel.''
       So, too, was Jones, who died Sunday night at the age of 78 
     after a long bout with cancer. Earthy more than polished, 
     Jones was as shrewd a horseman as ever came down the pike.
       His death ends the era that began in the 1940s, when smart, 
     hard-nosed, persuasive horsemen such as Jones, A.B. ``Bull'' 
     Hancock Jr. of Claiborne Farm and Leslie Combs II came to 
     dominate the breeding world.
       They were alchemists with an almost preternatural ability 
     to produce excellent horses, and they loved the challenges of 
     trying to beat the market, the races and, of course, each 
     other.
       ``It's a fad, like women's hats or something,'' Jones once 
     said. ``You try to guess which stallions will be popular 
     three years away. If I guess right, I'm a genius. If not, 
     I've lost money.''
       Of all the big-time Kentucky breeders, only Jones didn't 
     live within a 25-mile radius of Lexington, and one reason was 
     his life-long love affair with Churchill Downs, the home of 
     the Kentucky Derby.
       His great-great-great grandmother was a Churchill, and Col. 
     M. Lewis Clark, the track president when it opened and held 
     the first Derby in 1875, was an uncle three generations 
     removed.
       A Churchill director since 1941, the year Whirlaway won the 
     Derby, Jones was especially proud that he was the first 
     horseman to breed and sell winners of both the Derby (Dark 
     Star in 1953) and Kentucky Oaks (Nancy Jr. in 1967).
       After succeeding John W. Galbreath as Churchill's chairman 
     of the board in 1984, Jones replaced track president Lynn 
     Stone with Tom Meeker, opening the way for the track to 
     undertake the most aggressive remodeling and marketing 
     program in its history.
       Of all the changes made at Churchill, Jones' baby was the 
     construction of the turf course in the track's infield, which 
     enabled Churchill to attract the Breeders' Cup and diversify 
     its racing cards.
       Typically feisty and combative throughout the campaign to 
     get the turf course done, Jones became exacerbated with 
     critics who accused him of not caring about the infield's 
     beauty.
       ``It's nothing but grass we're talking about,'' Jones 
     growled, ``They're not going to set up Coca-Cola signs and 
     Falls City beer signs in there. There's nothing prettier to 
     look at than green grass and pretty girls.''
       That was vintage Jones.
       Although he always had a wink and a smile for a female he 
     found attractive, Jones seemed most at home in the company of 
     men, where he could argue and joke and tell stories without 
     having to worry about his salty language.
       Yet he also gave up drinking years ago and became such a 
     confirmed teetotaler that Churchill employees always were 
     careful about how much they drank around him, for fear of 
     becoming the objects of a stern Jones scowl and a stern Jones 
     lecture.
       He hated to lose a game of golf or cards almost as much as 
     he hated to get the short end of a horse deal, but he also 
     could laugh at himself.
       For example, he like to tell about a summer at Saratoga in 
     the 1940s, when he still was getting established and Combs 
     outmaneuvered him to syndicate a stallion that both wanted.
       It was a funny story, made more so by the gravel in Jones' 
     voice. Such a voice. When he called, you knew who it was 
     before he identified himself.
       And then you listened closely because when it came to the 
     horse business, Warner L. Jones always had something 
     important to say, which is just one of the reasons he'll be 
     so terribly missed.

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