Arm in arm, the King and Bartholomew went down to the counting room to count out the gold. Then the King sent Bartholomew home to his parents, no basket on his arm, no hat on his head, but with five hundred pieces of gold in a bag.
from The 500 Hats of Bartholomew Cubbins
written and illustrated by Theodor Geisel
writing as Dr. Seuss
Random House, 1938
My grandfather was a tailor. He brought his cap-making skills with him from the Old Country and opened a haberdashery on Cleveland’s west side. He made caps and sold them. He sold ties, too, neckties and bowties, and Adam Hats. The neckties hung on a twirly rack that always got me in trouble. I loved to spin that thing and watch the ties fly out to horizontal while still firmly attached to a shiny metal ring at one end. My grandma would catch me up and try to distract me with the miniature red-plastic toy Adam Hats my grandpa kept on hand. I didn’t like them as much as the ties. They didn’t fit my doll’s head, and they were for boys, anyway.
My grandmother, among her other talents, could knit and crochet practically anything. My mom learned from the best. Consequently, my hats were knit, they were not frilly. They had nothing to do with style or show-off decoration. My hats were the keep-your-head-warm kind. They fit close with earflaps knitted right in and knitted strings for under-the-chin tying. My hats were finished off with a tassel on top and came with matching knitted mittens.
Mom made my favorite hat (and matching mittens) with a skein of yarn that gradually moved from royal blue to deep violet and ruby red, bright orange, sunny yellow, then back again to orange, red, violet, and blue. The hat and mittens came out looking like a rainbow. The kids asked where I got such a hat and mittens. I’d raise my chin a little and say, “My mom made them for me.” I smiled when I said it.
Although I tried knitting, my results always came out lumpy. I finally gave up. My own kids had store-bought hats and mittens, some knitted (by a machine in another country?) some cloth, not made by me or my grandpa. I hand-sewed a bonnet once when my younger daughter dressed up as Laura Ingalls Wilder for a school assignment, though.
Derby hats and horse races are called Derbies after Edward Stanley, the 12th Earl of Derby (1752 - 1834). He initiated the first race in 1870, at Epsom Downs, just south of London. And he liked the newly designed hat.
The first Kentucky Derby was held in 1875 at Churchill Downs in Louisville, Kentucky. That first race imposed a strict dress code, on its attendees. A hat for men and women was required especially to attract fashionable society to the race and assure the public of a high moral standard. That year ten thousand hatted spectators watched 15 horses run a mile and a half.
The length of the race was shortened in 1896 to a mile and a quarter, thought to be more suitable for a three-year-old Thoroughbred in early spring.
By 1902, the race had become a “must-see” event.
Preparation is extensive. Training, for horses and jockeys, clothes for them, too, and the audience, and the track, and the flowers. The horses are fast. In 1914, Old Rosebud set a new track record. He finished in just over two minutes. All that prep, over in a flash.
Regret, the first filly to win, raced the next year, but she did not win.
Over five million listeners tuned in in 1925 for the first radio broadcast.
In 1939, at the start of WWII, admission was 50 cents, Lawrin, the winner, was the first horse to receive his honor on the newly built infield podium, and the Mint Julep became the Derby’s official drink.
Ten years later, locals could watch on TV.
In 1952, the first live, national broadcast reached between 10 and 15 million viewers.
The first female jockey to ride, Diane Crump, ran her horse, Fathom, in 1970. They didn’t win the race, but they won credibility for female jockeys.
Secretariat broke the speed record, finishing the race in under two minutes in 1973.
1986 saw the placement of Churchill Downs Racetrack, the home of the Kentucky Derby, on the register of National Historic Landmarks.
In 2020, for the first time since it opened, the Kentucky Derby was postponed. The date moved from May to September. COVID-19 was raging.
This past Saturday May 4, 2024, twenty racehorses lined up at the Churchill Downs starting gate and waited for the 150th Kentucky Derby to begin. Some horses waited patiently, some were eager to run. Nearly 157,000 spectators watched.
Mystic Dan won the race in just over two minutes in a three-way photo finish. His odds of winning were 18-1 and bets placed on the field brought in a record over $210.7 million. About $5 million was paid out to all winners.
But for some, it was all about the hats.
I just finished reading Show Me a Sign by Ann Clare LeZotte (Scholastic, 2020). The author has given us an emotionally charged coming-of-age story about a Deaf girl growing up on Martha’s Vineyard in the early 1800s. Its backdrop includes sibling death, secrets and guilt, a kidnapping, prejudice, friendship, trust, and reconciliation. Yes, all that in a book for middle-schoolers, with plenty to ponder for adults, too.
-—stay curious! (and move at your own pace)
from The 500 Hats of Bartholomew Cubbins
written and illustrated by Theodor Geisel
writing as Dr. Seuss
Random House, 1938
My grandfather was a tailor. He brought his cap-making skills with him from the Old Country and opened a haberdashery on Cleveland’s west side. He made caps and sold them. He sold ties, too, neckties and bowties, and Adam Hats. The neckties hung on a twirly rack that always got me in trouble. I loved to spin that thing and watch the ties fly out to horizontal while still firmly attached to a shiny metal ring at one end. My grandma would catch me up and try to distract me with the miniature red-plastic toy Adam Hats my grandpa kept on hand. I didn’t like them as much as the ties. They didn’t fit my doll’s head, and they were for boys, anyway.
My grandmother, among her other talents, could knit and crochet practically anything. My mom learned from the best. Consequently, my hats were knit, they were not frilly. They had nothing to do with style or show-off decoration. My hats were the keep-your-head-warm kind. They fit close with earflaps knitted right in and knitted strings for under-the-chin tying. My hats were finished off with a tassel on top and came with matching knitted mittens.
Mom made my favorite hat (and matching mittens) with a skein of yarn that gradually moved from royal blue to deep violet and ruby red, bright orange, sunny yellow, then back again to orange, red, violet, and blue. The hat and mittens came out looking like a rainbow. The kids asked where I got such a hat and mittens. I’d raise my chin a little and say, “My mom made them for me.” I smiled when I said it.
Although I tried knitting, my results always came out lumpy. I finally gave up. My own kids had store-bought hats and mittens, some knitted (by a machine in another country?) some cloth, not made by me or my grandpa. I hand-sewed a bonnet once when my younger daughter dressed up as Laura Ingalls Wilder for a school assignment, though.
Derby hats and horse races are called Derbies after Edward Stanley, the 12th Earl of Derby (1752 - 1834). He initiated the first race in 1870, at Epsom Downs, just south of London. And he liked the newly designed hat.
The first Kentucky Derby was held in 1875 at Churchill Downs in Louisville, Kentucky. That first race imposed a strict dress code, on its attendees. A hat for men and women was required especially to attract fashionable society to the race and assure the public of a high moral standard. That year ten thousand hatted spectators watched 15 horses run a mile and a half.
The length of the race was shortened in 1896 to a mile and a quarter, thought to be more suitable for a three-year-old Thoroughbred in early spring.
By 1902, the race had become a “must-see” event.
Preparation is extensive. Training, for horses and jockeys, clothes for them, too, and the audience, and the track, and the flowers. The horses are fast. In 1914, Old Rosebud set a new track record. He finished in just over two minutes. All that prep, over in a flash.
Regret, the first filly to win, raced the next year, but she did not win.
Over five million listeners tuned in in 1925 for the first radio broadcast.
In 1939, at the start of WWII, admission was 50 cents, Lawrin, the winner, was the first horse to receive his honor on the newly built infield podium, and the Mint Julep became the Derby’s official drink.
Ten years later, locals could watch on TV.
In 1952, the first live, national broadcast reached between 10 and 15 million viewers.
The first female jockey to ride, Diane Crump, ran her horse, Fathom, in 1970. They didn’t win the race, but they won credibility for female jockeys.
Secretariat broke the speed record, finishing the race in under two minutes in 1973.
1986 saw the placement of Churchill Downs Racetrack, the home of the Kentucky Derby, on the register of National Historic Landmarks.
In 2020, for the first time since it opened, the Kentucky Derby was postponed. The date moved from May to September. COVID-19 was raging.
This past Saturday May 4, 2024, twenty racehorses lined up at the Churchill Downs starting gate and waited for the 150th Kentucky Derby to begin. Some horses waited patiently, some were eager to run. Nearly 157,000 spectators watched.
Mystic Dan won the race in just over two minutes in a three-way photo finish. His odds of winning were 18-1 and bets placed on the field brought in a record over $210.7 million. About $5 million was paid out to all winners.
But for some, it was all about the hats.
I just finished reading Show Me a Sign by Ann Clare LeZotte (Scholastic, 2020). The author has given us an emotionally charged coming-of-age story about a Deaf girl growing up on Martha’s Vineyard in the early 1800s. Its backdrop includes sibling death, secrets and guilt, a kidnapping, prejudice, friendship, trust, and reconciliation. Yes, all that in a book for middle-schoolers, with plenty to ponder for adults, too.
-—stay curious! (and move at your own pace)
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