Remembering Kay Marie Patterson (1942 – 2025)
When I walk friends and visitors around the farm where I now work, I often reference the unique magic that happens when one of our horses chooses a person. It is especially impactful at the THS farm because we do not feed any treats to our herd of equine therapy animals, so they don’t look at humans as candy-machines. The magic may take the form of a velvet nose being extended to a hand or soft nuzzle on our shoulder, but the impact ripples through our body like a sparkling shockwave.
For those of us who have spent a great deal of time with horses or cats, we know the feeling well- it is a warmth, a glow, a sense of strength and joyful confidence that happens when a beautiful, yet entirely independent and discerning creature assesses you and deems you… what?
Acceptable? Nonthreatening? Not totally annoying? Curious? Interesting? Or, perhaps if we’re very, very lucky, lovable.
Horses and cats are legendary for their powers of discernment (noun: the ability to judge well). Humans, I believe, are not.
And yet once in a great while, you will meet a human with the instincts of an equine (or a feline) . If you are very lucky, they may choose you and when they do, your life will be changed forever.
My life was changed by such a human. Her name was Kay Marie Patterson. She chose me, she loved me, and I am grateful for her role in my life. I am writing this for all of us who loved her (and who she chose to love) because I want the world to know who she was and to learn from the life she lived. May she rest in peace and never be forgotten.
Our story
My family (mom, dad & I) moved to San Diego in 1974. My dad was hired away from his job at Los Alamos National Lab in New Mexico to work for Dr. J. Robert Beyster at his then-young company, called Science Applications Incorporated (SAI.. later known as SAIC). My dad (Calvin Burgart) was hired to run the computer center at SAI, which I recall as a big, cold room full of huge machines which roared with their whirring and constant air conditioning to keep them cool. Over the year, his role evolved and along the way his path crossed with a smarty, feisty COBAL programmer from Chicago named Kay Marie Patterson. We believe that Kay, as we called her then, first came into our lives in 1979. You’ll have to ask my dad (Padre) how the story unfolded that led Kay from being a colleague at work to a member of our family, but I know that I was 8 or 9 when we first met. As that happened to be about the same time that I, the most incredibly fortunate spoiled only-child on earth, was given a pony for Christmas (1978). My pony was named Candy Cane. She was the perfect pony and Kay loved her too.
Kay probably first came to our house for Christmas in 1980. My guess is that my mom and dad figured out that she didn’t have any family in San Diego and invited her to join us – a tradition that my mom has continued, and grown, through the years. The legend of Kay “choosing me” probably began that very first Christmas. You know that phrase “not suffering any fools”? That was Kay and she never apologized for it. Everyone who knew Kay also knew a lot about what she liked and what she didn’t. The smarter and kinder you were, the better your chances. She was never shy about telling you what she thought and she was notoriously hard to impress (and easy to disappoint). I would’ve loved to have been a fly on the wall that day that my dad invited her to spend Christmas with us. She loved Christmas, she loved my Dad, but she did not love children. To Kay, all children were fools…. that is until she met me.
As a quick disclaimer for those reading this who have met me sometime since 1991 or so: I spent the first 18 years of my life as a very quiet, shy, introverted and timid young person. No need to dive into that whole story now, but suffice it to say, I think it made an impact on Kay – I didn’t scare her off. I loved horses and I loved cats and so did Kay. I think that’s how it all began.
So, let’s just say that Kay came to Christmas in 1980. That led to the beginning of two stories: our Christmas tradition and my introduction to Thoroughbred horseracing.
Ahead of her time: Thoroughbred Aftercare & Racing Partnerships
I wish I knew who took Kay to the racetrack for the first time because we all owe that person a debt of gratitude. She loved racing (and sometimes, more recently, she hated it too). If you support any Thoroughbred Aftercare organization that she ever crossed paths with, I encourage you to ask them to check their records – she most likely gave, purchased auction items from you or supported you in countless, modest, but heartfelt (and frequent) ways. She led by example and she introduced me to aftercare through her support for organizations like Old Friends and CARMA, ReRun (she loved those Moneighs!). She was so proud of my work for the Thoroughbred Retirement Foundation and she joyfully followed me through my more recent move to Therapeutic Horses of Saratoga. Second only to bringing home Bobby, I know that my work for Thoroughbred Aftercare was the thing Kay was most proud of me for doing and this will comfort me for a long, long time.
I feel fairly confident that her horseracing story began at Arlington Park, because Kay was from Chicago originally. She may have gone with her father or her brother, but one way or another she found her way and racing captured her head and her heart by combining the beauty of the animals, the colorful stories & characters of the people and the satisfying challenge of the math-based puzzle part of the game. As a young professional in San Diego, I believe she found horseracing as an avenue to meet like-minded people including her dearest friend, Rachel Chrisman.
Thinking back on the early 80s when Kay first entered my life, I see now that it was that golden-age of racing, just after all the excitement of multiple Triple Crown winners in the 70s. Plus, the incomparable Penny Chenery had carved out a spot for women in racing through her leadership of Riva Ridge and Secretariat’s legendary careers. Like Penny, Kay didn’t care much what anyone thought of her, she followed her head and her heart and they led her to the racetrack. She was truly ahead of her time in her ownership of racehorses through partnerships, before racing partnerships were really “a thing”. One of her earliest horses was Fleet Pauline . Forever memorialized as Kay Marie’s email address, I’ve just looked her up in Equibase and love seeing that the record of this Dark Bay Mare, foaled on May 28, 1976 (13 starts, 1 win, earnings of $8,975) will forever pay tribute to Kay Marie as her name is listed as “Sold to K. M. Patterson”.
Del Mar was Kay Marie’s “home track” and she was an avid fan of Hall of Fame Trainer, Ron McAnally. It seems to me that Mr. McAnally may have trained a number of the horse that Kay owned, but without a doubt, he trained her favorite. He trained the legendary John Henry. John Henry was 100% Kay Marie’s kind of horse – he was big-hearted, determined, fierce and extraordinary, and he generally didn’t like people. His ferocious barn manners were legendary, but Kay loved him and I feel certain he loved her too. When he retired the Kentucky Horse Park, Kay traveled to Kentucky to be there to greet him and returned regularly to visit him.
When I am asked about my life in the world of horse-racing (the chapter that Bobby and I still find incredible to be living since our move to Saratoga in 2018), it all begins with Kay. As horse-crazy as I was as a child, I really knew nothing about horseracing until Kay. She took me to to the backstretch at Del Mar, where I met my very first racehorse. The year was likely 1981 or 1982. Thanks to Kay, that horse was John Henry. The fact that John Henry did not try to bite me when the 10-11 year old version of me (timidly) offered him a carrot was truly one of the highlights in my life – and it remained one of Kay’s proudest achievements. John Henry was, like Kay in many ways. He was his own horse, he knew how to do his job and he didn’t like most people. I am sure John Henry loved Kay and for whatever reason, he validated Kay Marie’s choice that somehow I deserved to be “the one kid she ever chose to like”. There it is again, that magical feeling – being chosen by a horse and being chosen by a person, who was also like a horse.
A few of her favorite things (and people): how lucky we were.
Kay was always very clear about her tribe. She chose them carefully and she loved them fiercely. As selective as she was, her criteria were wonderfully diverse – it didn’t really matter how long you knew her, it certainly didn’t matter where you came from or what you did or had, but her standards were excruciatingly high for simply being a good person. One of Kay’s many wonderful quirks (which became more pronounced as she aged) is that she would talk to absolutely anyone – and give them the chance to “pass her test”. She really wasn’t so much of an introvert as just a very picky extrovert.
Whether you were Mrs. “Ginnie Mae” Clay, from Clay’s Texas Pit BBQ , who made the delicious pecan pies that Kay brought to Christmas dinner every year, or you were my friend Teresa, who arranged an epically awesome morning on the Saratoga backstretch watching Rachel Alexandra enjoy her bath, she loved you for who you were and how you operated in the world. If you happened to do something kind and caring for horses or cats, you were pretty much golden. As recently as these last few months, she met a new friend who helped care for her last beloved cat, Pixel, and that lovely woman became a treasured member of the tribe. She even trusted her to go into her home and prepare for her post-surgery homecoming. My heart bursts with gratitude for this new friend. Kay proved, to the end, that she was always willing to let someone new into her heart… provided you found that special key.
It was this sometimes exhausting level of pickiness that made her love so strong, because she wasn’t afraid to let us all know that we were – in fact – very lucky that she’d chosen us. She underscored this by making it equally clear that there were lots and lots of people in this world who she had not chosen. For all of us who she loved, she didn’t bend over backwards to make it easy on us either. She was often cranky and she certainly wasn’t what we’d call “flexible”, but she also proved to me that it really is OK to just “be who you are” and see who sticks around. For those of us who did, the rewards were boundless.
As I’m preparing to wrap up this first installment of my remembrance of Kay, I am awash in memories of the people and creatures that Kay loved so dearly. These include my dad, my mom, my Grammie Farley, Bobby, Zenyatta, Rachel C, Rachel A, Pixel, Patches, Muffin, Maggie, Mookie, Nala, and every cat and horse I ever owned and every cat and horse she ever met. I am seeking solace on this sad day in the faith that she is now, at rest and at peace, and reunited with the people and animals to whom she gave her heart while she walked among us here on earth.
A word of heartfelt gratitude
I would like to dedicate his rambling rumination to two extraordinary women, Arlene and Heather Davidson, who cared for Kay throughout the past few years as she faced a myriad of health challenges. Over these past few weeks, since Kay’s surgery on March 24th, Arlene and Heather have been the guardians and navigators of Kay’s care and the communicators for all of us with the healthcare professionals who looked after her. Bobby and I, and all of Kay’s circle, are so very thankful that Arlene and Heather were able to visit with Kay yesterday. It comforts me to know that they spent time with her on her last day, to see her settled in her room upon release from the hospital, and to have seen and heard her spirit – still spicy and feisty – before leaving this world in the wee hours last night. She was still and always the Kay we loved and I know they will miss her most of all.
