‘Hollywood’
John McMullen Story
My Life in Harness Racing
Copyright Pat Ritter 2001
Smashwords Edition
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CHAPTER 1
What happened? I couldn’t remember anything. All I could remember was, it was Saturday morning, and I was in the Emergency Department, Redcliffe Hospital. My back was sore and I had a sore head. One of the nurses told me I was in a race fall the night before. I don’t remember being at Redcliffe races nor nominating for Redcliffe races. I was told I was driving Maker Reign in the race. I couldn’t remember having a horse named Maker Reign.
Was I in trouble? I couldn’t remember anything about the races. I don’t ever race at Redcliffe, this must be a dream. Someone told me the number of telephone calls I’d received, also how the nurses were annoyed answering the calls. I didn’t know what all of the fuss was about. My back was bruised and my head sore. I’d had far worse injuries before. After six weeks I was well and truly recovered from the fall at Redcliffe and my injuries healed. Well, that’s only another fall, I’ll get over it.
After my recovery from the race fall at Redcliffe, one morning I was working a young horse at Albion Park when the horse decided to buck and lunge forward. I was seated on the seat of the work gig when the horse charged forward. I felt the horse’s hoof hit me in the nose. Blood went everywhere; my nose broken. The horse’s leg was across the cross bar of the work gig. It happened in a split second; it was no use hanging onto the reins, I was thrown forward out of the work gig and landed on top of the horse’s head. My left knee broken; I felt the pain as my leg twisted up against my thigh.
Blood was everywhere. The next thing I remember being underneath the work gig; the horse had done a complete somersault. I ended up lying on top of the horse’s head holding her head under my arm; it seemed like for hours.
A trainer and his son rushed over and dragged me from underneath the work gig. ‘Gees you’re heavy, he said. The other person took the horse. The pain unbearable; I wanted to die. Somehow I straightened my left leg and knew I was in trouble.
This was the first time in my life I wanted to die. I’d never felt pain like this before in my whole life. Were my days in Harness Racing over?
For sixty-five years I’d been associated with horses, my father had horses in his younger day. I grew up in a horse area around the town of Ipswich. I could remember being with horses since a very young boy. One of my first jobs, before I went to school, was to hold the reins of the horse for the lavatory man. In those days we didn’t have septic tanks, only the outside toilets. Every week the cans were collected by the lavatory man exchanging an empty can in its place.
He placed the full toilet cans on top of the dray taking empty ones in their place. The dray was a flat top wagon with wooden sides to hold the toilet cans. My job to hold the horse’s reins while he went into each outside toilet to get the toilet can and put them onto the dray then we went on to the next home.
There were plenty of ponies in paddocks around Ipswich. After school I’d stop to look at the ponies in the paddocks. It wasn’t hard to jump the fence, grab a pony and ride them around the paddock bareback. I wanted my own pony.
Not only did I work for the lavatory man; I worked on a paper run. It didn’t take long to save enough money to buy my own pony. Each week I’d ride one pony from Booval to Ipswich Park, to Ipswich & West Moreton Riding Club leading one or two other ponies, depended on the events for the day. We held them at Queens Park Ipswich. One pony was for show events and others for speed test ponies.
Goodna had monthly horse sports day and other shows around Ipswich had plenty of events to compete. I liked the speed test ponies; they used to gallop like the thoroughbreds. ‘Sematic Boy’ was the name of one of the speed ponies I often rode and won.
While at school I bought a single sulky large enough to have one horse in harness with three or four horses tied to the side of the sulky, to compete at the shows. I had different horses for different show events.
It was about this time of my life I got the nickname “Mulley”. At this time Athol George Mulley a famous jockey, rode “Bernborough” for fifteen straight wins. My mates teased me about how I could ride horses like Athol George Mulley, so they nicknamed me “Mulley”. The name has stuck with me since.
Just before my scholarship examination, in grade eight, I was bucked off a pony and missed sitting for the exam. In those days most students passed scholarship before they went onto high school. My father didn’t want me to go into horses. It’s all I ever wanted to do as far back as I can remember. My father wanted me to do an apprenticeship as a carpenter, so I fulfilled his wishes by beginning my apprenticeship as a carpenter. Before starting work each day I’d ride track work for the famous horseman, Mr Tom Wall at Bundamba Racetrack. He showed me the art of breaking in horses.
Carpentry didn’t agree and aged 16 I quit my apprenticeship and took job droving cattle from Ipswich to Beaudesert. Churchill saleyards outside Ipswich held a weekly cattle sale. Stuey Wilson was a drover at the saleyards. Working cattle with Stuey gave me the grounding for my future with cattle and horses. Stuey rode his horse everywhere.
He wanted to give up droving, so I took over his job droving cattle from Churchill Saleyards over the mountains to Beaudesert. Each week I drove about 100 head of cattle from Ipswich to Beaudesert.
One day I was working at the saleyards when a well-dressed gentleman came up to speak with me, he’d heard I was a good show jumping rider. To my surprise he was George Riser of Riser and Grace, they were the King and Queen of Show Jumping in Australia and wanted me to be their rider in the show circuit.
The show circuit started at Killarney, a town in southern Queensland, in January travelling throughout the South Burnett area returning to Ipswich in May of the same year. My job was to ride their show jumpers and equestrian events under classes. George Riser and Girlie Grace lived in the back of their truck and I lived in my swag underneath the tailgate of their truck. If there were a vacant horse stall at a showground I’d stay in the horse stall.
Travelling around the show circuit was exciting, each place different, meeting people, seeing people train their horses differently. When we were travelling South Burnett Shows I met Aub Kennaway who had four trotting horses, Queen Caroline, Flying Pete, Togo Prince, and another horse; I can’t remember its name. Aub asked me if I wanted to jog his horses in a gig. Immediately I took a liking to it. ‘When we get to Ipswich Show I’ll give you a drive in a race’. He promised.
Ipswich Show couldn’t come quick enough; he was a man of his word. In my first drive, I drove Queen Caroline to a win in the heats and won the final. In those days there were no licenses. The bug had hit me. I told George and Girlie I wouldn’t be travelling with them any longer I’d continue to ride their horses until Royal Brisbane Show.
It’s almost fifty years since I drove in my first race and won with Queen Caroline. That initial feeling of winning at my first drive in a race has never left me. Harness Racing was what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. The thrill of sitting behind a horse balanced in a gig, controlled only by a pair of long reins to guide the horse, travelling across the ground at speeds of sixty kilometres an hour or more. I realised the excitement of Harness Racing was more exciting compared with other events. What an adrenalin rush!
If I was going to succeed at the sport and learn Harness Racing, now was my opportunity of living the sport. I decided to stay at Ipswich Show grounds and live in a horse stall next to the men’s toilets. One time my father came to visit me at the showgrounds to see how I was going. He was astonished and ashamed saying to me, ‘I didn’t raise you to live in a horse stall’.
For the following six months I learned many lessons about horse racing, shoeing, gait of the horse, training and driving techniques. Times were tough, people at the Showgrounds were doing the same as me who used Ipswich as a base and compete at all of the shows around Ipswich.
At times when money and food was lean we’d cook potatoes or whatever we’d find to put into a camp oven at the wood chopping arena, using the chips from the wood chopping events as firewood. Many stories were shared around the campfire including stories from swaggies camping at the showgrounds to share their food and tell us stories of their travels.
From these humble beginnings I have never lost that initial feeling of excitement of Harness Racing - you can’t believe the feeling until you’re out there competing.
CHAPTER 2
After the show circuit finished that year I’d ridden at every Saturday night Rodeo for prizemoney. During the day I drove in trotting races and at night competed at rodeo events. Prizemoney from the rodeo events gave me sufficient to buy a car and think about what I was going to do next. A friend of mine had been working on a property at Taroom and told me about work out there. My friend Jim McGuire and I decided to give it a go.
Jim McGuire would become Champion All Round Cowboy five times. He is a legend in Rodeos and was Champion Buckjumper, Bull Rider and Champion Bulldogger, commonly known as Steer Wrestling. Jim was my personal friend; he died some years ago. We went to school together, after school practicing all of the rodeo events at his mother’s farm at Ripley on the outskirts of Ipswich.
His father died some years before making Jim the main breadwinner for the family. Jim worked at Box Flat Coal Mines at Raceview near Ipswich. We dreamed of leaving Ipswich travelling west to work with cattle to fine-tune our skills for rodeo events. Jim’s mother was Irish and didn’t want to leave his mother alone.
On a Sunday afternoon during Jim’s Christmas holidays from the mines we decided it was time to leave and try our skills in the bush. At the time I owned an Austin A70 Sedan. We planned to park my Austin in the driveway at Jim’s house while he threw his few belongings into an old tin trunk on the front verandah. I’d have the motor running while Jim threw the tin trunk and his saddle into the boot of the car and away we’d go.
At the arranged time I parked the car in the driveway; Jim threw his few belongings into the old tin trunk, picked it up and put it in the boot of my car with his saddle. I had the motor of the car running and was about to reverse out of the driveway when his mother came from around the back of the house swinging a straw broom above her head cursing us in her Irish tongue. Jim had one foot in the car and the other foot out of the door and called to his mother; ‘We’re going to Taroom to work with cattle so we can have a career in rodeos’. I reversed the car out of the driveway on our way to Taroom.
Ipswich to Taroom took us about a day to drive, in parts it was slow, the road was corrugated the car almost rattled to pieces. There were no bitumen roads out west in those days. We pulled up at Taroom outside of a hotel and told the publican we were looking for work. Jim was seventeen years old and I was a year older. He told us a job was going at “Hornet Bank Station” about one hundred miles west from Taroom.
‘Before you leave for “Hornet Bank Station” can you take a ‘jimmyjohn’ of rum out to Mr Scott, he’s the manager.’ The publican said. I’d never heard of a ‘jimmyjohn’ of rum before, I thought the publican was having a go at us because Jim’s name was Jimmy and I was John. He was serious; they had a ‘jimmyjohn’ of rum. We left Taroom the following day arriving at “Hornet Bank Station” late in the afternoon and met Mr Scott giving him his ‘jimmyjohn’ of rum. He told us to put our things in the quarters and to come up to the house for tea.
Next day we drove my car to ‘Brunda’ out-station to meet the other ringers. There’s no road out to the out-station only a rough track winding its way, it was so rough we stopped once and I said to Jim, ‘If we break down out here we’re gone, there’s nothing out here’. We were scared. The road was so rough the station used an old army blintz to get their supplies to the camp.
My car would have been the only car ever to go along this track. What kept us going was the thought of having a fulltime job, riding horses and mustering cattle. There was no turning back. Finally we got to the mustering camp; it took us all day.
After meeting the Head Stockman he asked us if “We Could Ride” we were known as “Queen Street Drovers” a saying used for young fellas raised in the city. After telling him how good we were, we got the worst horses in the camp hard mouthed, pullers, and bucking horses. It taught us a lesson of admitting how good we were.
Jim and I stayed there for a year working at “Hornet Bank Station” regularly going to Taroom riding at the local rodeo. We were doing well at the rodeos so the title of “Queen Street Drovers” soon disappeared. Back at “Hornet Bank Station” after mustering, Jim and I re-educated horses that were useless on the station, either they were not broken in properly in the first place, or they’d been let go for some other reason. This sharpened our skills with horses, for Jim and I wanted was to ride the rodeo circuit fulltime.
We had a few weeks break from the station to return to Ipswich. Jim had to square off with his mother. We met two other mates on our break who told us about work at “Glen Houghton Station” Taroom chased wild cattle. These wild bulls, which had never before been mustered, had big horns and showed no respect for humans, they were wild. Property owners didn’t want to breed with these bulls because of in-breeding, so they had to be caught, dehorned, earmarked and castrated. We’d never mustered wild bulls before; it was something new for both of us. We started work on “Glen Houghton Station” with other ringers to catch wild bulls.
There’s an art to bull chasing. The rider has his horse at full gallop through thick bushland getting closer toward a raging bull sliding up beside it, keeping behind the bull so they wouldn’t turn with their big horns to claw the horse you’re riding.
Once I saw a bull turn onto a horse and rider with his horns slicing into the horse’s stomach opening up its stomach so wide causing the horse’s intestines to fall out of the cut. The horse had to be destroyed.
To catch bulls, the rider had to have balance and be very fit to grab hold of the bull’s tail with one hand, at the same time screwing the bull’s tail around the rider’s wrist into a half hitch; and had to have a good horse. The rider’s leg was over the horse’s neck at full gallop, at the same time jump from the horse and land on the ground holding onto the bull’s tail. When the rider landed onto the ground he had to keep watch for the bull’s head to throw the bull off balance to land the bull onto its back. As the bull landed onto its back, the rider grabbed hold of its back legs and holds them straight up in the air. He took off the tying strap from around his shoulders to tie the bull’s back legs with the strap and leave the bull on its back. The horse stopped nearby after stepping onto the extra long red hide split reins, to signal the horse to stop. After catching one bull it was time to get back onto the horse and go after the next one.
By the end of the day when there were enough bulls caught, coachers were used to move them near to the bulls. Coachers were quiet cows and calves used to mix with the wild bulls while the ringer dehorned, earmarked and castrated each bull. Ringers carried a dehorning saw on the back of their saddle.
Each day we’d always leave the mustering camp at daylight, eat breakfast in the dark after sleeping in our swag. These mustering camps had no water to wash our teeth and no toilet paper. If you needed to go to the toilet a stick came in handy instead of paper.
It was sometimes a ride of two to three hours before you found a mob of cattle. Terrain of the country was rough with gullies, mountains, and heavy bushland. Cattle were like wild brumbies; mobs between fifty to seventy head herded together.
We felt we were the Men From Snowy River galloping our horses across rough country through bushland so thick it was hard to see what was only about twenty feet in front, searching around water holes and creeks. When we came across a mob of cattle we had to be silent, if the cattle heard any noise or saw anything they’d head off toward the thickest scrub, with us in pursuit in full gallop.
When you sighted a bull, you spurred your horse toward the bull into a full gallop taking no notice of where you and your horse were going, it was no picnic for the faint hearted, branches from trees constantly slapping you in the face when galloping chasing each bull. At times it was hard to remember where you left a bull tied up after catching a number of them, eventually each bull was found with the use of coachers. It was a great life for young men with hard tough work.
Jim met and married Margaret Claris who was working as a nurse at Taroom Hospital. Jim stayed at Taroom and I returned to Brisbane to compete at Royal Brisbane National Show in the rodeo events winning the bronco ride, bulldogging and placed second in bull riding event. I still wanted to compete on the rodeo circuit fulltime; Rockhampton was the first rodeo of the circuit so I went to Rockhampton to compete.
At Rockhampton I met the Head Stockman we’d worked with on “Hornet Bank Station” who offered me a job of breaking in some horses for him back at Taroom. I returned to Taroom to break in the horses on the condition I still attend rodeos. When breaking in one of the horses I got a mean one and had a bad accident.
My days of rodeos were finished. I was twenty-one years old, been there and done that not knowing what I was going to do next.
CHAPTER 3
My mother died when I was fourteen years old. Four years later Dad moved away from Ipswich to marry Vivien Bougoure, sister of Doug Bougoure famous thoroughbred trainer of Champion racehorse Strawberry Road. He spoke to me about my future and what I’d done up until then, ‘You’ve got to get into some business of some sort,’ he’d say. I didn’t know what I was going to do or what was going to happen, I’d worked in the bush for the past three years, that’s about all I knew.
It happened an old school friend of mine lived at Salisbury, a Brisbane suburb and recently married, I decided to visit him to meet his new bride. My old school friend’s wife had brothers who raced speed cars, repaired, and sold cars. During my youth I sold ponies to other kids; what would be the difference with selling cars, everyone wanted a car, getting a car is like getting a horse, the excitement in selling was the same whether it was cars or horses. For awhile I helped these brothers to learn bits and pieces about cars.
I leased the Junction Service Station at Capalaba with a partner who was a mechanic and moved into the Service Station business. While I worked serving the fuel my partner worked doing all of the mechanical work. Business was slow and there wasn’t much money to be made selling fuel or spare parts.
Redland Bay Car Sales had the Holden Dealership for all of Redland district. In those days the areas of Capalaba, Redland Bay, and Thornlands were mainly a farming community. Many farmers in the area purchased new cars from Redland Bay General Motors Dealership; their trade-ins were transferred to Junction Service Station for resale because there was insufficient room. There was very little growth in the area until land developers opened up land to residents clearing the way for more people to move into the area when housing became cheaper than in most other areas.
Prior to taking over the Junction Service Station the previous operator advertised these used cars traded in from Redland Bay Car Sales at the service station. I continued the consignment of used cars to sell on behalf of Redland Bay Car Sales.
Each weekend people called into the service station to either test drive a car or to buy one. It was a continuous trade all weekend taking perspective customers on a test drive and selling them a car. It was also good for our business to repair some of the cars before they were sold.
Business was going well I had a run in with the local Police Sergeant Hedley Nicol from Cleveland. He was concerned I was selling cars without a license, so to make it legal to sell cars he helped me to get a Motor Dealers License through the Cleveland Magistrate Court. I didn’t know it was a requirement to have a license to sell cars. I didn’t need one when I was selling horses.
After continuingly selling cars, the Manager of Redland Bay Car Sales offered me a partnership I couldn’t refuse. ‘There’s more opportunity to get customers closer to the city,’ he told me, so I decided to move closer to the city causing the partnership with the mechanic to dissolve. Luckily I was able to start my business in a Used Car Yard next to Police Citizens Youth Club at Woolloongabba. There were no auctions in those days; it was selling cars from the used car yard through contacts and customers.
It had been a few years since I worked physically hard; selling cars did not keep me physically fit, so I decided to get fit again. Next door to the Used Car Yard was Woolloongabba Police Citizens Youth Club. Reg Layton a Police Sergeant trained good fighters like Wally and Ollie Taylor, plus many Olympic champions, they were the best. It was a privilege to be with them.
Reg trained me with the other fighters; and just before the Rome Olympics I fought Ken Marshall for a place in the team to represent Australia at the Olympics. Ken knocked me out; he went on to eliminate all other contestants to represent Australia at the Rome Olympics. Reg retired from the Police Force, he and Wally Taylor joined me in selling cars from the Used Car Yard.
Over the past couple of years I’d worked hard and fast to learn the business of selling cars. A wealthy friend of mine offered me the opportunity of being his Manager at Logan Road Car Sales. I’d recently married; it was an opportunity to make it in the car selling business. Seven days a week wasn’t enough. Eventually I purchased the business and stayed there for twenty years.
Most Saturday afternoons I’d go to the local galloping races to have a break from the business. I bought a yearling from the sales; it was by Smokey Eyes, naming the colt Real Smoke. After breaking him in and getting him going I gave Real Smoke to Doug Bougoure to train. It wasn’t a good time to have horses; I was working seven days a week at the business to make it work. Eventually it did work and the hard work paid off. I didn’t have much time to see the horse race.
There are turning points in our lives and mine was when I met Ron Wanless who was nineteen years old, starting his business of buying cars for his car wrecking business. Ron and I became instant friends, which is as strong today as it was when we first met all those years ago.
Ron’s father was Merv Wanless trainer of champion pacer Lucky Creed. It was a pleasure to be associated with the Wanless family associated with a champion pacer Lucky Creed.
It had been about seven or eight years since I first drove a trotting horse in a race. Ron and I decided to race at country shows, it was our idea to have a bit of fun and buy a couple of horses because we were working long hours with our businesses. Our first horse was Yule Ayr we bought at the Redcliffe Show. We gave Yule Ayr to Ron’s father Merv to train taking our turn of driving the horse in races.
Merv took a trip up north to follow the show circuit. In those days most harness racing trainers followed the show circuit as far north as Cairns in northern Queensland all of the way back to Brisbane, competing in all of the shows along the way. This left Ron and I to take over the training of Yule Ayr. On Saturday afternoons I’d drive to Coopers Plains harness up Yule Ayr and drive him in a race gig along the road to compete at Rocklea Races. After racing at Rocklea I’d return Yule Ayr to Coopers Plains and wait until the following week to do the same. Yule Ayr was the horse to get me into harness racing. Although I’d been away from the sport since I was seventeen years old that initial feeling had never left me. Harness Racing gave me that adrenalin buzz!
Racing at Rocklea Showgrounds in those days was tough; I had to learn the basics of driving in a race knowing whom the other drivers were and try to get around the track finishing the race in one piece.
Rocklea track in those days was very different to what it is today. If you were sitting in the grandstand and looking to your right there is a large building followed by a row of houses. In those days when you went around the track, your horse was going down hill from the front of the grandstand to around the back of the track. You then went up hill around the back to the straight and back to the grandstand.
Comparing the track with today’s track, the top of the track is in-line with the buildings outside of the track, in the old days the track was sunken like a sunken lounge in a house. As you drove your horse around the track you looked up at the buildings on the outside of the track, when now the buildings are almost level with the track which has been improved over the many years of racing.
I felt like I was a boy in a man’s world driving against the likes of Doug Coy, trainer of champion pacer “Stormy Water”, his brother Fred Coy, Les Thomas, father of Kevin Thomas, well known and respected harness racing driver and trainer. There was Ernie Jarmey, Stan Sharpe, Dudley and Bert Lucas, Merv Wanless, Bob Lacy, Bill Stevens, Des Weeks, Porky Butler, Tom Graham, Ernie Betts and Blue Nicol. They were tough nuts to crack and used to make a pocket for me and I was there to stay. I used to think, how am I going to get out of this?
I mainly raced at Rocklea Showgrounds on a Saturday afternoon, sometimes at Redcliffe and Ipswich, which were registered race meetings. Licenses for both trainer and driver were issued to either drive or train a horse. If I was going to succeed in the sport of harness racing I needed a better horse to compete with. Yule Ayr was not that horse. I started buying my own horses. First horse I bought was “Brown Field” giving him to Merv Wanless to train.
One day I was at Rocklea races when Les Thomas wanted to know if I wanted to buy a horse. He sold me “Louis Potts” with all of the harness gear including the racing gig. His comments, ‘I don’t want my son Kevin mixed up in harness racing. He’s enjoying riding at shows’. It’s now history Kevin Thomas was to become one of Australia’s best drivers and trainers of harness racing. I bought “Louis Potts” with all of the gear for fifty pounds.
CHAPTER 4
Merv Wanless didn’t want to train “Louis Potts” because he was a stallion and Merv didn’t want any stallions near his mares he was training. Merv suggested I contact Wally Mitchell, his brother-in-law to train the horse. Wally took over the training of “Louis Potts”.
In those days horses racing at Rocklea would sometimes race twice in the one-day on the same program. We decided to race “Louis Potts” at Rocklea in two races. In the first race he was handicapped at 36 yards and the second race he was off the front. Horses were handicapped depending on their class. I drove him in the first race finishing 4th. Wally was certain he’d win the second race, so we put all of our money on him at 14/1 and cleaned up the bookies, in other words we won plenty of money. I’d driven my first winner at a registered race meeting. All other winning drives before this one was at shows or non-registered meetings. How long has this been going on?
Next day I visited Wally and Mrs Mitchell still celebrating my first win and making a killing with the bookies. Mrs Mitchell didn’t want “Louis Potts” around because he was a stallion and a nuisance. He had to go and decided to sell the horse.
A friend of mine George Westaway I’d known since I was riding ponies around Ipswich was keen to buy “Louis Potts”. George bred ponies and was interested in breeding harness horses thinking “Louis Potts” would be a good stallion to start his breeding program.
George was keen to trial the horse he came to Wally’s place that afternoon bringing a young strapper to trail the horse and drive him around Wally’s track. Wally had a small track about two hundred metres in circumference built with an ash surface. Ashes formed a cushion effect on top of the track but were loose underneath the horse’s hoofs. “Louis Potts” must have thought he was racing because he took off around Wally’s track at a speed when he came to a corner the race gig tipped over throwing the young driver out. “Louis Potts” continued to gallop on into his stable dragging the gig behind him.
This time I was going to give it a go. Wally and I had been celebrating all morning and I was a little worst for wear dressed in a pair of shorts a tee shirt and wearing a pair of thongs. Jumping astride the gig I stood “Louis Potts” up and stepped him away. He was going fast and at the same corner where he’d tipped the other driver out, out I went, this time though I held onto the reins being dragged around Wally’s track by “Louis Potts” in full gallop. Along the right side of my body was gravel rash, or should I say ash rash.
After stopping “Louis Potts” and handed him over to Wally, I had ashes from the track up and down the right side of my body. My shorts and tee shirt were torn and skin missing from my legs and arms. Wally hosed me down with water to get rid of all of the ash; skin was missing from my arms, legs and body. ‘What’s that stuff you paint on the horses when they cut themselves? I asked Wally. He painted me with hopple chafe, which made me look like a blue multicoloured monster. George bought “Louis Potts” and raced and bred with him.
Next day I was sick and went to the doctor to find out when Wally painted me with hopple chafe it poisoned me. It took a couple of days to recover. I’ve often thought how the poor horse felt after being sprayed with hopple chafe.
Ron Wanless and I went into partnership to buy racehorses; Ron drew up a design for our racing colours of Red with a White Sash. Ron always said, “McMullen and Wanless in partnership greatest names in trotting. These are the colours, which will make us famous.” They were registered in both names. Many years later I transferred the registration of the colours to my name. These racing colours were predominantly bright red colour with a white slash similar to a Santa Claus suit.
One Christmas Eve I was racing at Redcliffe Paceway wearing these colours. I was driving Trustful Thor in a race, when the field was around the back straight; my horse suffered interference caused it to gallop. Trustful Thor toppled over the inside running rail followed by the race gig and myself finishing up on the inside running track. In those days we wore glass goggles with round rims.
When I fell over the running rail the glass of the goggles shattered causing glass from the goggles to cut around my eyes and face. The Ambulance Officers came over to patch me up they cleaned around my face and painting some red dye onto my face and around my eyes, then transported me to the Redcliffe Hospital. I was still wearing my colours, which were torn a little with a tear in my trousers.
I was lying on a stretcher waiting for a doctor when the Sister of the Ward came on duty. She looked at me saying, ‘Oh Santa what happened to you, did you fall off a bar stool?’ I suppose seeing me at that time of the year and the mess I was in it wasn’t hard to mistake me for that other big fellow wearing a red and white suit.
One of the best horses I ever owned was Sugar Cane. There is quite a story of how I come to purchase the horse. Each Saturday I’d race at Rocklea, it was common to spend time in the betting ring with the bookmakers to see which horse was being wagered. It was Easter Saturday I was standing in the betting ring when I noticed a fellow going around putting lots of money on a horse named Carol Mead. He had more tickets than the bookmakers had.
Carol Mead was in a maiden class race, which is equal to a CO event today. Watching the race I saw Carol Mead step away from the standing start like an open company horse and won just as convincingly. I wanted “Carol Mead”.
Mr Thompson trained Carol Mead; I quickly went to speak to him about buying Carol Mead for any amount of money he wanted. ‘We want to win a few more races with him” he told me. Carol Mead was racing again at Rocklea on the following Monday, so I went to the races to see him race. Again the owner put plenty of money on him.
This time Carol Mead was handicapped. Racing from the front line was a horse named Sugar Cane driven by John Gibson. When the tapes dropped Sugar Cane went to the front followed by Carol Mead on its back with Sugar Cane winning the race and defeating Carol Mead. I wanted to buy Sugar Cane. Eventually after a week of negotiations I purchased Sugar Cane for seven hundred pounds, which at the time would have been, the highest price paid for a harness horse anywhere in Australia.
Little did I know Carol Mead was not Carol Mead but a ring-in, a term used to substitute a horse of greater ability than the original horse? Carol Mead was actually a horse named Glendale Rex, which was an open class pacer from New South Wales. After I found out about Glendale Rex, I thought, how good Sugar Cane is beating an open class horse. Trainer of Glendale Rex eventually was charged and sent to prison for six months.
After I purchased Sugar Cane I gave the horse to Mr & Mrs Walker to be trained. Mrs Walker did most of the training, the horse being her favourite. Sugar Cane won many races for the Walkers. In those days I had different trainers training my horses, when the horses raced I’d drive them in the races. With so many trainers I was able to gain a little knowledge from each of their methods.
Alby Pratt a famous thoroughbred horse trainer and a very close friend of mine, he trained a thoroughbred named “Prunda” in the 1960’s to win the International Stakes being ridden by famous jockey Lester Piggots. Alby trained thoroughbreds for me and wanted to train Sugar Cane. I made an arrangement with Alby to train Sugar Cane while I drove the horse in his fast work and in races. After watching the methods of different trainers I had horses with over the years, I wanted to do my own driving in a race and train the horse my way in fast work to get closer to my horse. Sugar Cane won a total of forty-eight races mainly at Redcliffe Paceway; he was the best harness horse I had ever owned. There were no metropolitan races at this time because Albion Park Paceway was not in operation.
Sugar Cane was being handicapped at Redcliffe Paceway on a Saturday afternoon off 60 yards. Races were getting tougher for him to compete in. Harold Park in Sydney was racing every Friday night and it was a metropolitan track, Alby and I decided to take Sugar Cane to Harold Park for a one off race. At the time Alby was training a galloper for a pilot of a cargo plane remembering in those days horses were normally floated everywhere either by truck or vehicle and float. Horses were never flown from state to state, as is the practice today.
The cargo plane pilot was doing us a favour by flying the horse to Sydney and returning him the following morning, he was going to Sydney carrying other cargo. It was up to Alby and myself to construct a make shift loading ramp for Sugar Cane so he could walk from the horse float onto the plane.
Inside the cargo plan was enough room for the horse to stand up in. We made a make shift stall out of wooden crates tied together in the plane for the horse to stand in while we flew to Sydney. We were to leave Brisbane at two o’clock that afternoon, fly to Sydney arrive at five o’clock, race at Harold Park and fly home with the horse at two o’clock the following morning.
When we arrived at Eagle Farm Airport with Sugar Cane in the horse float, we discovered all Airport Workers were on strike, and had to use our own make shift loading ramp to load Sugar Cane onto the plane ourselves. Somehow we got the horse onto the plane which was only large enough for the horse to stand up in. There wasn’t much other room; Alby and I used two small seats at the back of the plane to sit amongst all of the cargo on the plane. We couldn’t fit any other gear into the plane like a race gig, so we arranged to use one from a trainer at Harold Park.
Alby and I fitted into two small seats at the back of the plane tying the seat belts around us as the plane took off to Sydney. When the plane was airborne the door opened nearby where we were seated and out went the horse’s feed. Alby said to me, ‘get up and close the door.’
‘I just seen the bag of feed go, I’m not getting up, you get up and close the door.’ I said. We didn’t have to pay for the plane so we had to put up with what was happening. The next three hours the door of the plane slammed open to shut causing wind and noise to echo throughout the plane. You couldn’t hear yourself think.
We landed at Sydney Airport worst for wear I was air sick. Two officers from Department of Agriculture were waiting for us when we landed. They wanted to inspect the horse and see our permits. News had been reported in Sydney Newspapers that a horse was being flown from Queensland to Sydney to race at Harold Park.
We confessed to these officers of not having any permits and admitted we didn’t know we needed a permit. It was the law we had to have the horse sprayed at the border crossing on our way through. The Officers didn’t take too kindly to my reply; we didn’t go through the border crossing, we flew over it. In the end they decided to spray the horse and let us race at Harold Park.
After experiencing the flight to Sydney, Sugar Cane didn’t do any good in the race; neither did I. Fairy Armargh won the race driven by Queenslander Jack Haggarty.
Instead of flying back to Brisbane we decided to stay in Sydney and float the horse back in a couple of days. We still had a large wager on the horse thinking he would win but with the problem of the plane door coming open on the flight from Brisbane to Sydney it was too much to expect for the horse to do well plus I was still air sick.
CHAPTER 5
Of all the trainers who trained my horses up to this time I was most impressed with Sammy Zammit’s training. When he presented his horses to race they were in superb condition and looked fit to race, together with horse’s equipment and gear. Sammy was the true professional. He trained “Celtic Raid” at his stables in Knight Street Redcliffe.
There was talk of night trotting starting at Albion Park but that’s all it was talk. Albion Park was used in those days as a mid-week galloping venue, for the thoroughbred industry but the rumours were strong about night trotting. I decided to place most of my team of horses with Sammy Zammit at Redcliffe, and go to his stables to drive my horse’s fast work and in races.
Redcliffe race meetings in those days were on a Saturday afternoon. To make money with the horses we had to bet because the prize money was not enough to make ends meet. Bookmakers were wall to wall in the betting shed at Redcliffe which still stands today, unfortunately with progress there are no longer the bookmakers. Saturday afternoon crowds were huge on the peninsula patrons coming from most of the northern suburbs of Brisbane area. A similar scene was at Rocklea on the other side of Brisbane. Those were the days.
Albion Park finally opened for night trotting which was the beginning of competing at a metropolitan race meeting in Queensland. Seeing an opportunity to improve the class of horse I was racing I went to Melbourne and purchased more horses.
Some of the horses I purchased were “Even Joe”, “Little Rebel” and “Smart Dollar” to build up a team so I could be competitive. I wanted to have a large team of pacing horses to place me in the top level of the sport. Ron Pointer purchased “Smart Dollar” from me, introducing him to harness racing.
It’s important to explain the first night of Albion Park Night Trotting, it was awesome. Nothing of any magnitude had happened previously for harness racing in Queensland with a crowd so large there was standing room only. Bookmakers were everywhere to be seen lined up to wager bets with the patrons, it was a night to remember and should be recorded into the annuals of Harness Racing History as probably the most historical night for Queensland Harness Racing. Parking was a problem because there wasn’t a parking space anywhere nearby to Albion Park, they were all full.
Sammy Zammit won the first race on the program with a horse named “Curly Adios”. I raced “Even Joe” and was placed and couldn’t believe the roar of the crowd as the horses and their drivers entered the track, we’d never experienced this type of atmosphere before at a harness racing meeting. It still echoes in my mind today. It was sensational – Trotting was alive in Queensland.
Albion Park raced every Saturday night – right handed with the racetrack inside of the galloping track; programming included both mobile and standing start events. All I wanted to do at the time was to increase my team of horses to race at Albion Park.
Sammy Zammit continued training my horses but with my wanting to increase the team, he didn’t have enough time nor staff to handle the extra numbers of horses to train. Jimmy O’Sullivan was Sammy’s strapper assisting us on race nights. I wanted Sammy to be my private trainer but he declined because he had too many of his own horses to train.
Colin Dudley was a trainer at Capalaba near where I had the Junction Service Station all of those years before who took over the training of my team of standardbreds. Colin floated the horses into Albion Park for hobbling up day; I’d drive them in track work also in races. Colin and I won many races together forcing me to increase the numbers of horses from six to twelve horses in training. It was far too many horses for Colin to train; I had to make a decision to farm the other horses to another trainer.
Kevin Thomas was starting in harness racing; he’d started at Redcliffe establishing a racing complex with a couple of horses and decided to move onto his own training establishment at Redland Bay where he started training six horses for me. We had the same arrangements as the other trainers I would drive the horses in fast work and in races. Kevin also drove many of my horses. We established a friendship from those days, which continues today accumulating in many successes making me to be the leading owner at Albion Park and well up on the driver’s list.
There were no other challenges for me to achieve with harness racing in Queensland, I was winning many races at Albion Park, driving most of the winners, and making huge bets with the bookmakers. It was 1977 I decided to rise to the challenge of racing in America. Brian Pelling was in America telling me of the many opportunities there were for harness racing in America. It would be a huge financial challenge in continuing to climb the mountain of success. I was already winning races in US with horses trained and driven by Brian Pelling.
Ron Wanless’s success was growing out of control; he was the champion speed car driver at the speedway and his business was flourishing. My car sale business was also going well. Kevin Thomas decided he wanted to come with us, so the three of us started planning for our trip to America.
Our plan was we transport our horses to America race them in hope of selling them to Americans. I took four horses, Kevin had three whilst Ron had one transporting them by plane to San Francisco and stabling them on the track at San Francisco where we would race them.
Racing in America was seasonal. Say for instance, Redcliffe Paceway having on course stabling with daily racing for four months of the year, then closing; followed by Gold Coast Paceway racing daily for following four months continuing onto Albion Park. After we’d been at San Francisco for a month, the track closed. The horses had settled into the conditions, we had to transfer our team onto “Hollywood Park” Los Angeles on the West Coast to the next racing venue.
From San Francisco to Los Angeles takes about twelve hours to drive in a car. Just before the track closed Brian Pelling won a race for his owner Mark Aubin. Included with the prize money was a new car, Mark sold us his other car for $2,000.00 to drive to Los Angeles, he kept the new one he’d won.
We decided to share the driving so I drove for a couple of hours handing over the driving to Kevin Thomas and in turn Kevin handed the driving over to Ron to finish the trip. At the time Ron was the present World Speedcar Champion. Kevin was asleep in the back seat and I was asleep in the front seat, Ron was driving. Ron Wanless was behind the wheel of this big flash car driving down the open highway telling us he’d get us there in half the time.
I was in a deep sleep, and heard police sirens awakened me opened my eyes and sat upright in my seat I saw highway patrolmen all around us. We had been stopped by the Bears, a name given to the highway patrolmen in the movie Smokey and the Bandit with Bert Renolds. Before I went to sleep, we passed cars I saw young children display a sign from inside their car “Have You Seen Any Bears Today” written on them. We didn’t realise they were giving up a warning about speeding.
It dawned on me the children were warning us about being caught. We were caught. When I got out of the car I grabbed hold of my camera to take some shots of the patrolmen. They had their guns drawn, what did Ron do? Ron was out of the car speaking with one of the patrolman when I came up to them.
Ron was speeding at one hundred and twenty miles an hour far in access of the speed limit, which was sixty miles an hour. He was explaining to the patrolman he was a champion racing car driver and couldn’t see any danger in speeding. One of the patrolmen said, ‘are you fellas Aussies?’
‘Yeah, we’re going to Los Angeles for the trotting at “Hollywood Park”. Ron told them, ‘back in Australia all we drive are Model T Fords along dirt roads dodging kangaroos”. He went on to ask us about tips of some horses. I wanted was a photograph to prove to people we had been pulled up by the highway patrolmen. They let us go without arresting us which was never done in America and felt lucky to be let off.
Hollywood was the place to live visiting all of the in-places rubbing shoulders with movie stars and celebrities meeting many people. Being Australian, particularly involved in harness racing, we were treated like celebrities.
Hollywood Park was the racing venue where we stabled the horses on the track. I’d never witnessed anything so spectacular in all of my life, when I first sighted the grandstand at Hollywood Park. It was four levels high with about thirty thousand people at every race meeting to see us race.
We were ready to race a horse at “Hollywood Park”; it was a horse named “Summer Holiday”. Before the race we decided to wager the horse to make a killing. Ron Wanless, Kevin Thomas, Brian Pelling and Doug Forbes who was at the time one of the biggest punters in Australia would put the money on and I would drive “Summer Holiday”.
I won my first drive in a race at “Hollywood Park” driving “Summer Holiday”. We won plenty of money. To explain the thought of winning at my first drive at “Hollywood Park” it was as if I was living a dream.
Our stay at “Hollywood Park” we were treated like movie stars visiting the different places each night mixing with different movie stars and celebrities. Looking back on it now comparing all of the success of today’s Australian actors, we could have been actors ourselves. Each time we went onto the track to race we acted a part; even selling cars back in Australia there was acting to do to make a sale. We could have been the first.
To succeed in America I had to convert to their way of training, Brian Pelling told me of ‘sprint training methods’ used for one-mile racing. It was known as “trip training”.
Compared to our training methods with Americans was totally different to what I had been doing back in Australia. I was doing one trip of a mile and a half, ten, eight and two for the mile and a half whilst in America I was doing three one-mile trips cooling them down between trips.
First warming-up the horse jogging without hopples for about fifteen minutes then return to the barn. Next time place the hopples and other gear onto the horse and return to the track let them run a mile in about 2:30; return to the barn to cool out (stop blowing). Return the horse to the track for the second trip letting them run a mile in about 2:25, return to the barn to again cool out. On the final trip running the horse at 2:15 for the mile sprinting a good last quarter. It was strange comparing this method to Australian’s method of training. Finally when I returned to Australia I continued this training method at Albion Park with much success.
Marshall Dobson publisher of “The Australian Standardbred Magazine” was hosting “Harness Racing” on Channel 7 program “Sports Scene”. He gave me the nickname of “Hollywood” John McMullen and has stuck with me since.
CHAPTER 6
After training pacers in America I returned to Brisbane with a deep desire to establish myself as a trainer/driver in my own right. Training horses in America from the track was the way to go with no need to transport the horses to and from. I had to find a training establishment near to a major track, or I would need to build one myself.
While I was away in America my car sales business continued to operate successfully supporting my family of a wife and four children. I purchased a property at Nariel Street, Albion where I have continued to live to this day starting with a couple of stables, over the years extending the stables to twenty-six. Many high profiled trainers have stabled their horses at these stables over the years, the likes of Brian Hancock with Courage Under Fire and many others.
Over the following twelve months I established myself as a trainer/driver at the same time building my training complex at Albion. The site of the stabling complex was ideal for training horses being only one street away from the major metropolitan track Albion Park Paceway. Not far away, within walking distance was Breakfast Creek where I’d swim the horses behind a rowboat up and down the creek. Environs of Nariel Street Albion is predominantly industrial area catering for businesses such as mechanical repairs, panel beating, light industrial which have had no effect with training of pacers.
My plans to establish myself as a trainer/driver were growing steadily towards success. A friend of mine, Col Hodson came to see me about purchasing a horse named “Best Of Lobell”, the owner Phil Hudson wanted to sell him and return to England. Col and I bought “Best Of Lobell” with the intentions of racing him in Australia and finally taking him to America on my next trip to the States.
“Best Of Lobell” was a very good racehorse winning at Albion Park at his first start giving us an opportunity of recovering our costs. Over the following months I purchased racehorses to transport to America to sell and took “Best Of Lobell” to race in America together with horses I’d bought. This time I went by myself.
Racing was held at New Jersey on the East Coast of America at the “Meadowlands” Paceway, the biggest racetrack in the world with racing six nights a week drawing crowds of 30,000 plus patrons. I stayed with Mike Gagliardi, a leading trainer/driver in New Jersey who I’d met in California the previous season; he invited me to stay with him on my return to America. Mike had pre-sold many of the horses I’d transported to America for his clients to race.