13. Take a stroll on Almahurst Way.

Almahurst Farm was established in 1783 on Harrodsburg Pike about halfway between Lexington and the Kentucky River. James Knight had received a 160-acre land grant from the governor of Virginia for his service in the French and Indian War. The farm was enlarged 300 acres just a year later as payment for his service as a sergeant in the “Virginia Line” of the Continental Army during the Revolutionary War. Knight and his wife built a log cabin, and the next five generations of the Knight family built a renowned horse farm that still exists (though with a different name) today. That means it is really, really old, older than the Constitution of the United States (ratified in 1788) and the state of Kentucky (established in 1792).

 

Its very best horse, Exterminator, did not seem promising initially. Born in 1915, he was awkward, “overtall and gangling,” and “coarse looking” with an extra-long face, bony knees and “mule-long ears.” One observer said, “His neck was long and slender, and your eye caught on that white rounded triangle in the middle of his forehead. Resting, he looked elderly, with mule-long ears and eyes deep set beneath small hallows. He was long and tall and skinny. He looked like he should have been hitched to a family buggy for Sunday drives.”

 

So the farm gelded Exterminator. After all, the theory went, only the finest animals—less than 10 percent, perhaps as low as 0.5 percent—should be bred. Gelding Exterminator also made him a better working horse. Compared with uncastrated stallions, geldings are calmer and easier to handle.

 

Indeed, Exterminator got to work as a training partner to a more impressive-looking horse named Sun Briar. But as they trained, Sun Briar began underperforming, and the trainer grew enthusiastic about Exterminator, considering it the most intelligent thoroughbred he had ever known. The owner could hardly believe the trainer and called Exterminator “that truck horse” and “a cussed billy goat” but “no race horse.”

 

And then, as the 1918 Kentucky Derby approached, Sun Briar developed ringbone. The owner had no choice, and on the morning of the race, Exterminator took his place in the starting gates. He had not raced since the age of two, and his odds were only 30-1. It was pouring rain. The track was deep in mud. And no horse was expected to challenge the heavily favored War Cloud, who enjoyed odds of 6-5.

 

But Exterminator relished the muddy track. Near the back, he bided his time for six furlongs, and as the field turned for home, he passed the leader and won by a length. Exterminator had shocked the world. The crowd had to check their programs to see “who the hell Horse Number 5 was.”

 

He continued his dominance. Exterminator won races all over the country, proving that his Derby victory wasn’t a fluke. The versatile horse won on tracks described as fast, good, heavy, muddy, and slow. Fans loved him, eagerly watching him accelerate in the stretch. When he did, they gave the rallying cry, “Here comes Exterminator!” As he aged, fans affectionately called him “Old Bones,” a reference to his bony appearance and his old age. One fan wrote him a poem: “Who is it laughs at years that flow? Who is it who always gets the dough? Whose only creed is go and go? Exterminator!”

 

People also loved his manners. After winning a race, he stood still under the blanket of roses instead of trying to eat them. He came whenever the signaled, even if there wasn’t any sugar. A trainer called him “the most honest generous, admirable horse he ever trained.”

 

As World War I came to close, Exterminator became a patriotic icon. According to historian Eliza McGraw, “He was described for his ‘bulldog American courage’ and as an ‘American Thoroughbred.’ And there was something about his workman-like ethic, and the way he always did the best he could. He reflected what we consider the best of us.” Exterminator challenged the notion that American horses would never live up to the British and their meticulously charted pedigree records.

 

By 1924, his last year of racing, Exterminator’s final earnings tally was more than $252,000. That outclassed even Man o’ War, who had won $249,465. He retired at the age of nine, old for a racehorse, with an official record of 50 wins, 17 seconds, and 17 thirds in 100 starts.

 

Exterminator enjoyed a glorious retirement in Binghamton, New York. He ate lots of grass and lived with a companion pony named Peanuts, who he refused to go anywhere without. (There were actually three Peanuts through the years). He died on September 26, 1945, at the age of thirty and was buried at La France Pet Cemetery beside all of his Peanuts.

 

Almahurst Farm changed hands four times in the last half of the twentieth century. The Ramsey family purchased the property in the 1990s. It included barns for stallions, mares and yearlings, seven houses, an original log cabin, offices, and a maintenance shop. Having made their money from a cell phone business, they renamed Almahurst Farm to Ramsey Farm and have steadily purchased more land, including the historic Chaumiere des Prairies property. Now over 2,000 acres large, it remains a working horse farm. It averages about 40 horses in its racing stable, 55 broodmares, and a total of about 200 horses.

 

To learn more, head to the Jessamine County Public Library and check out the Eliza McGraw’s recently published book Here Comes the Exterminator! The Longshot Horse, the Great War, and the Making of an American Hero (2017).