Genesis.... Welby Thomas Cox, Jr.

long and secured it with six surgical screws. During this procedure the horse was on his back with all four legs straight up in the air. To provide a “prop” for the right rear leg, Dr. Bramlage placed an ordinary heavy plastic basket between the two rear legs, bringing the injured leg to a level easy to reach by the surgeons. The two ends of the fracture were brought together by the plate, but there were small pieces missing around the fracture line itself. This space was filled in with bone marrow taken out of the left side of the hip.

      During the surgery it was found the horse wasn’t pumping a lot of blood, meaning there was no flow getting to the ankle and foot area. This was not a good sign. At 11:00 a.m. five surgical pins were inserted through the cannon bone, coming out the other side. There were four pins above the fracture line and one below. The parts of the pins that protruded out the far side were cut off. By 11:40 a.m. a fiberglass cast had been placed around the entire leg, including just above the hock area. At that point Dr. Bramlage estimated the cast would remain on for four to six weeks. By 11:55 a.m. surgery was completed and Alydar was placed in a padded recovery room.

      By 1:15 p.m., the horse had been placed in a sling as he would only come to a sternal position, making no effort to stand on his own, apparently because of the full heavy cast on his right rear leg. At 1:25 p.m., with the aid of the sling, Alydar stood for the first time, fighting the cast all the time. The stallion was obviously having difficulty trying to figure out where to place his front and rear legs. He lost his balance at least twice, suddenly lunging forward and striking the recovery room door. The first time I was standing right at the door window and it was quite frightening.

      He simply did not like the sling. He looked like a dead bird just hanging from the sling, supported by a heavy-duty hoist. After two more up and down tries, by 2:30 p.m. he was able to adjust and was moved back to the recovery stall, now equipped with woodchip bedding for better footing.

      I left the farm at 3:00 p.m. when all seemed to be going well, returning that night at 7:20 p.m. Alydar was bright and alert, eating hay and beginning to place some weight on the right rear leg. He was still pawing at the floor, indicating some pain, but otherwise seemed to be in good shape following his ordeal just 21 hours earlier.

      Drs. Baker, Rhodes, and Bramlage all agreed along with J.T. Lundy and myself that euthanasia was called for. At 8:20 a.m. and responding to looks from all concerned, I simply said,

      “Let’s do it.”

      I returned to the farm at 7:30 a.m. the next day. Dr. Rhodes said the horse was still bright, alert, and fully weight bearing on the injured leg. Complete blood counts were being made often and she had also oiled the horse to keep his gut moving. She said he was having normal bowel movements but appeared to be tiring with the whole sling deal. I returned to my office and just as I arrived received a phone call letting me know there was an emergency at the farm and I should return immediately.

      I was back at the barn by 8:15 a.m., meeting Dr. Baker at the door of the surgery barn. He and Dr. Bramlage had met between my visits and decided to remove the horse from the sling. He had been showing signs of colic which could have been due to many things — the restrictive movement, stress, medications, etc. Colic is one of the top killers of horses, and it had become a damned if you do or damned if you don’t situation.

      When the sling was removed, Alydar shook like a dog coming out of the rain, took a couple of steps forward, lost his balance, fell backwards, and literally sat on his right rear leg, fracturing the femur bone. This is the main weight-bearing bone running from the knee to the hip. Everyone present reported hearing a cracking sound and that was the sound of the bone breaking and immediately protruding out of the skin. Drs. Baker, Rhodes, and

      Bramlage all agreed along with J.T. Lundy and myself that euthanasia was called for. At 8:20 a.m. and responding to looks from all concerned, I simply said, “Let’s do it.” As resident vet, Dr. Rhodes provided an overdose of medication and the horse passed peacefully. As a final act as the adjuster on the scene, I pulled the horse’s lip and confirmed lip tattoo identification of E21991. The letter E indicated the year of birth (1975) with the numbers being unique to Alydar.

      If there was any good news coming out of the surgery, it was the fact that the injury was not a shatter-type fracture. Months earlier, a horse had been killed for the insurance money by a character known as “The Sandman.” When he entered a horse’s stall, it “went to sleep.”

      He was caught in a FBI sting and following his indictment turned informant on his

      “employers,” who usually paid him 10 percent of the insurance proceeds. Thirty-five convictions followed and “The Sandman” received six months. I mention this because there were rampant rumors following Alydar’s injury that Lundy had fractured the horse’s leg using a baseball bat. This was the method used by the Sandman in just one case. Had this happened as the conspirator geeks speculated, the bone would have been in pieces, not just the one fracture confirmed during the surgery.

      To understand the uphill battle, the vets faced in trying to save Alydar, it helps to read the comments by Dr. Bramlage in his final report to me and the London underwriters:

      His temperament, both resenting the maintenance of the sling, as well as wanting to move across the stall unrestricted, certainly contributed to this problem (the fall). We fully expected to lose the horse due to the severity of the injury, but I did not expect to lose him for this reason. In any case, it is disappointing because the majority of his treatment went so well and then we had to compromise what we would have liked to do, because of his temperament. It makes it frustrating when you’re trying to treat horses. Certainly who he was and the fact that he had things pretty much his own way was not helpful in his care, and though the prognosis for an open fracture of the cannon bone in an adult horse is extremely poor, we had been off to a good start until this point.

      Our office sent out a total of 78 claim forms for the various policyholders and by December 7, 1990 all had been returned to our office. Most of the proceeds, if not all, for the interest of Calumet went to the banks holding liens on the property, leaving J.T. Lundy with nothing but a looming financial downfall. At the time of the horse’s demise none of what has been outlined in this dissertation was known.

      Calumet Farm filed bankruptcy in July of 1991; the horses were sold at auction and in March of 1992 the farm was purchased by Henry DE Kwiatkowski for $19 million with all the farm equipment sold the next day in a separate auction.

      End of story about Alydar? No way. Let’s move on to May of 1996, five years after the horse was put down.

      I had gone on to handling other equine insurance claims and was preparing for my upcoming retirement when, much to my surprise, I was served with a subpoena on May 2, 1996, requiring I surrender all files and any other information regarding the death of Alydar. It took five accordion folders to hold all of the requested documents. That was the last I saw of my records, despite numerous requests for their return.

      Two months later two FBI agents walked into my office unannounced. This is getting really serious, I thought. They wanted to know if I had any reason to believe or evidence to show Alydar had been killed for the insurance money. I said “No.” I had nothing to hide and answered every question. In retrospect, however, I learned that if a visitor from the FBI ever appears, one should call an attorney, no matter what. The agents did not record my remarks, and it makes for a tough argument later on if you disagree with their memories.

      The following year, 1997, brought a judgment against J.T. Lundy when he failed to appear in a federal action. He was ordered to pay $67 million to unsecured creditors.

      In August of the same season, I was called before a federal grand jury in Houston in reference to Alton Stone, who had been the Calumet night watchman in November of 1990 when Alydar was injured.

      When called before a grand jury you cannot have an attorney and you are basically at the mercy of the prosecutor. I answered every question and reviewed my activities involving Alydar’s injury and subsequent surgery. After a few questions from the jury foreman and the assistant U.S. Attorney, I got the initial feeling they had some doubts about my testimony. A later Associated

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