There are other places in this magazine where you can read about John Henry’s humble beginnings, his legendary racing career, and his wonderful retirement. This is not about that.

My friend John died Oct. 8.

He was my friend for 26 years, and, with the exception of my family and two friends, I knew him longer and better than anyone else on Earth.

We met for the first time Dec. 6, 1981. It was my first visit to the track as a credentialed member of the media. Having started a college internship at the Thoroughbred of California magazine earlier that week, I met his van from Santa Anita when he shipped over for the Hollywood Turf Cup (now gr. IT). With his faithful groom Jose Mercado at his side, John Henry walked a bit, took a drink of water, and stared directly at me–daring me through the lens of my camera. He looked regal, like the champion he knew he was. Except for the droplets running down his chin. The photo still hangs in my dad’s office