Old footage of Snowman "The Cinderella Horse" with his trainer Harry DeLeyer.
Snowman “Horse of the Year.” 1958 and 1959
Snowman inducted into the Showjumping Hall of Fame in 1992
Snowman started life as a farm horse and nearly ended it at the knackers at the age of eight in 1956 when he was purchased by the meat man at auction. But Harry de Leyer a local riding instructor noticed the big grey horse and bought him for $80.
When Harry's children first saw the horse it was snowing and he had snow on his back so he was christened Snowman. Snowman 's condition quickly improved under Harry 's care and he proved to be a safe ride so he was soon sold on to a nieghbour who offered Harry twice what he had paid for him.
But Snowman kept jumping out of his field and returning to Harry de Leyer and the nieghbour insisted Harry take the horse back.
Harry had long cherished the hope that one day he would be able to produce a showjumper and now he had a horse that could jump. In 1958 Snowman was entered in his first show jumping competition and he won.
Snowman 's showjumping career lasted 5 years before retirement, he has been the subject of several books including:
The Story of Snowman the Cinderella Horse by Tony Palazzo
Snowman by Rutherford George Montgomery and
The Eighty Dollar Champion: Snowman, The Horse That Inspired A Nation by Elizabeth Letts
He had his own fan club, appeared on TV including the Johnny Cason show and made guest appearances abroad, a Breyer model was made of him.
Snowman was a legend in his own time. He died at the age of 26 following kidney failure.
"De Leyer was late for a horse auction one wintry day in 1956. When he finally pulled in, he spotted a thin, dirty plow horse on the back of a truck soon headed for the slaughterhouse. Snowman was one of the horses not sold that day. A leftover to be killed.
The two bonded immediately. "I liked his eyes. He looked very quiet, at peace," says de Leyer, who bought the horse on the spot for $80 and took him home.
The rest is horse world legend. De Leyer and Snowman eventually won the National Horse Show open jumper championship in 1958 at Madison Square Gardens.
A more unlikely pair was not to be found in the fancy horse-jumping circles of the 1950s, where money and image were de rigueur. But there they were, a handsome young Dutch immigrant and a workhorse not known for his looks. Some even laughed when they entered the jumping ring, but de Leyer and Snowman had the last laugh.
It's a feel-good story that is begging to be a movie, which might just happen. "There are lots of negotiations going on," Letts says as she joins de Leyer on his farm. De Leyer, who still speaks with a thick Dutch accent, demurs.
"I'm not a movie star," he says, chuckling. "I'm just a poor horse boy."
De Leyer, who loved horses from childhood, and his wife emigrated in 1950 from their war-ravaged and once Nazi-occupied town in the Netherlands, carrying nothing more than $160 and a wood crate holding everything they owned. When he arrived, he began working on farms. It's the classic American dream story, with a down-on-its-luck horse galloping in for good measure.
But like Snowman's last-minute reprieve, Letts' book almost didn't happen, either. She found the story by accident.
A horsewoman herself, Letts was surfing the Web when she came upon a photo of Snowman jumping over another horse named Lady Gray. It was taken at an exhibition.
"I'd never seen a horse do that. It was a photo that stopped me in my tracks," says Letts, 50, a novelist and children's book author who lives in the Baltimore area. "And it was then I realized I had to tell this story."
Upon investigation, Letts realized the story got only better. She soon learned how Harry acquired Snowman and the tale's happy ending. She also was both surprised and delighted to learn de Leyer was still alive.
"There's so much magic in this story," she says. "Something happened that day when Harry met that horse."
"In a way, it was too good to be true," de Leyer says. "It was my luck. Nowhere else can this happen but in America."
The horse who came back
But Letts says de Leyer had more than luck — he had immense talent with horses. He doesn't disagree.
"They're a lot stronger than we are. They're quicker," de Leyer says. "They're easier to teach, easier to get along with. I've ridden my whole life. I get along with them. I learned from every horse I ever rode."
Those who know de Leyer say his way with horses is legend.
Walking from stall to stall, de Leyer stops and pets Landjonker, a bigger-than-life Thoroughbred stallion with ribbons on his stall door to prove his standing in the barn.
"He's not for sale, not as long as I live," says de Leyer. He had made that mistake once before.
De Leyer sold Snowman early on, doubling his money — "I'm Dutch!" — when a local doctor came looking for a horse that would be good with children.
But Snowman had other ideas. He repeatedly jumped field after field of fences, once with a tire attached to his leg, to get back to de Leyer, who finally took him back after a couple of weeks of his high jinks. "Anywhere he was, he came always back to me."
And when Bert Firestone, a real estate magnate, came calling with a blank check after Snowman proved himself in the ring, de Leyer was quick to turn down the offer.
"I did not take it. I liked the horse more than the money. He was the horse that took me there. I couldn't sell him," says de Leyer.
"He was meant to be with me. No doubt about it. Now I can't walk around a horse show without someone talking to me about him. I wasn't important. Snowman did that."
Asked if he were "perhaps part horse," de Leyer is quick to respond. "That could be!"
The de Leyer way with horses has been passed on. There are 10 de Leyer children (eight with his first wife, and he adopted his second wife's two), plus 19 grandchildren, many of them equestrians of note.
Letts spent three years writing the book, interviewing de Leyer and those involved in Snowman's life. That included the girls at The Knox School in Nissequogue, N.Y., where de Leyer, known as "Mr. D," was the riding instructor for 22 years.
Bonnie Spitzmiller was a student there in the late '50s. She rode Snowman. One of her biggest thrills remains the day she jumped a 5-foot-6 fence on the legendary horse.
'He was a very simple horse'
She remembers Mr. D and his quiet way with horses well.
"He'd take Thoroughbreds from the track, horses that weren't doing well, and he'd bring them to the school, and the better riders would train them. So he not only taught us to ride, but he taught us to train," says Spitzmiller, now 70 and living in Vero Beach, Fla.
Letts says the Knox School girls, when asked about Snowman years later, "had no idea what he was. They thought he was OK, but they remember wanting to ride the prettier ones."
Spitzmiller remembers Snowman, who was used for instruction at the school throughout his career, as a "beginner's horse. Quiet, docile, well-behaved."
De Leyer, who moved to Virginia in 1990 after he and his first wife divorced, believes he has a couple of horses today who could become another Snowman. One is Juliette, who jumps from paddock to paddock, just like Snowman did. "But Snowman is going to be hard to beat. He was a very simple horse."
Snowman died at 28 or 29 in the fall of 1974 — no one knew his actual age — and is now buried on the farm de Leyer once had on Long Island. "I buried him. Yes, I was there. I operated the bulldozer," he says, lowering his voice.
Could the Snowman story be repeated today?
"There's more to prove now," de Leyer concedes. "To have a top horse you can buy for $80? Those days are finished."
But then he thinks for a moment and reconsiders.
"Yes, it can happen! Some kid can come out of nowhere with a horse that doesn't look so good and win. It happened to me. It can happen again." USA Today
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