Somewhere buried in this trunk is a two dollar bet on Affirmed, the last Triple Crown Winner from 1978. I never cashed it in. I couldn’t. I’d witnessed history. Today I reflect on that day…and my dad.

My father loved the races. Through a debilitating illness, he found his only solace on the track at Santa Anita, a gem of a racecourse nestled at the foot of the San Gabriel Mountains. He rose early to watch the workouts and talk to the trainers. Then he’d go back to the hotel to rest and study his race form. When he was ready, he folded it lengthwise and stuck it in the back pocket of his cords before setting off to watch the ponies run. Everyone at the track knew him. He was tall and much too thin, a straw hat tipped rakishly over his short gray hair. Cashiers, ushers, trainers all called him Big Bear Bill.

Dad would have loved the story of California Chrome, our Santa Anita horse about to run today for the Triple Crown. His owners are regular people, just like my dad. They know the value of a hard day’s work, and they take joy in the simple things in life. I wish Dad was here to watch this story unfold.

Today when California Chrome is running for the Triple Crown, I think back to that day thirty six years ago, the last time a horse won the ultimate prize in racing. My Bill was in graduate school back east, and we had a crazy Irish Yonkers friend who coaxed us to go to Belmont for the day. The world was anticipating a wild race between two extraordinary horses: Affirmed and Alydar. We didn’t have enough money to get seats, so we hung out in the paddock area to watch the jockeys mount their horses. The air was intoxicating. Which horse would win? Could Steve Cauthen bring Affirmed home for the third race? Would our two dollar bets earn us much-needed cash?

Finally, the big race. We watched the five horses walk around the paddock with their entourages in tow, women in floppy flower-filled hats, men in dapper suits, trainers with eyes of hope. The horses were stunning, muscles rippling and twitching in anticipation of what everyone knew would be a race for history. The jockeys mounted their horses, and they walked through the tunnel. Bill and I snaked our way through the crowds and found a tiny one foot piece of asphalt behind a bench right on the finish line. The bench was filled with standing spectators. I stepped up on the bench from behind, my toes clenching the seat while Bill pushed from behind to keep me balanced.

And the race was off.

The horses kicked up dirt as they thundered past us. The crowd went wild. The announcer screamed. And we held our breath as Affirmed took the lead. The horses came around the last turn, and Alydar was ahead by a nose. But Affirmed held on, and the two raced toward the finish. Nose to nose they neared the line, and the crowd roared like a freight train blowing through a station. Louder, louder, louder, until each pocket of air reverberated with electricity. As they crossed the line, Affirmed led by an nth of an inch. Pandemonium. I’ve never heard such noise in my life. Bill helped me down, and I reached into my back pocket. My bet was safe. Affirmed paid $2.20. No way I was going to cash it in. No way I was going to get rich.

I called my dad that night. Now, phone calls then were expensive from the east to the west, but I knew this call was worth the money. We played and replayed the race over the phone. When I told him I hadn’t cashed in my bet, he thought it was ridiculous. But I knew he understood.

Over the years, I moved my Affirmed bet from east to west, from Southern California to Central California, from box to box, and finally to my trunk of treasures. It’s in there somewhere. And though I’ve always bet against a new Triple Crown winner, I think today is different. I will root for California Chrome, our Santa Anita horse…and for my father, Big Bear Bill.